Fugitive
by Final Frontier Voyager
Summary: What if Reid somehow ended up being chased by his own team? Just how on earth could things go this wrong? Read to find out! Reidcentric, of course.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: So here's my promised new story! I hope you'll like it. Beta-read by REIDFANATIC.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. I don't even want to. Writing stuff about it without borders is more fun I think:)  
**

_The Fugitive_

Chapter One

The trees were beautifully green and nicely sunlit in the late spring morning. A gentle breeze was blowing in the forest, making the leaves shiver and shake with joy. Birds sang their blissful songs everywhere; a river was babbling nearby. Nothing seemed to spoil nature's beauty.

"We can't lose 'em," Derek Morgan murmured softly into his speaker.

With weapons held at the ready, four FBI agents advanced forward in the morning forest.

"He probably ran to the west," Rossi said, keeping his voice down, "Northwest, maybe."

At the riverside Hotch motioned with his hand and the group split up.

"I see fresh footprints along the riverbank," Morgan announced. "More than one person ran here not too long ago."

"There's someone moving over there," Prentiss whispered. "Can't see them clearly..."

All of a sudden, several shots were fired. Rossi and Prentiss crouched down instinctively, not stopping to look for the source of the bullets. Morgan turned his head around wildly, desperately trying to locate the shooters, but all he saw were trees and bushes. He took three or four steps forward, running. There! He saw movement, a good twenty yards ahead of him; a dark, slim figure, trying to move away from where the agents were. Morgan couldn't see him properly; there were bushes and a mass of leaves covering the space between them.

"I got you, you bastard," he whispered to himself before he took aim and pulled the trigger.

The dark figure tripped and disappeared from his sight.

Morgan didn't rush immediately to check if he had really hit him. He knew that there were others around, only waiting for him to come closer and make himself an easy target.

"I think I got one of them," he muttered into the speaker. Soon, Hotch caught up to him. The forest was silent. Even the birds weren't singing anymore; they had gotten frightened by the sounds of the shooting and hid away deeply in their nests.

They heard Rossi's voice through the speakerphone. "I think they're gone."

_Dammit Reid, I'm so gonna kick your ass for that, _Morgan thought, but he never said it out loud. He and Hotch cautiously advanced forward, ears sensitive for the slightest sound of the forest, but nothing was heard. They slowly reached the place where the unsub Morgan had hit should have been lying, but there was no one around.

"He was here," Morgan told the others. "He was standing right where I am now."

"You missed him," Hotch established.

But Morgan couldn't accept that he had failed. "No," he crouched down. "See this? I did hit him." He pointed to something on the ground. Hotch squatted down too, and finally he saw the sanguine liquid on the ground. It was already half soaked up by the soil, but it was definitely there, and it led further away until it reached the river.

"Shit," Morgan cursed. "He got away!"

"Right," Hotch said just as Prentiss and Rossi came up to them. "Morgan, go back to the other agents and start looking down the river. If he had climbed out somewhere, I'm sure he won't get too far, judging by the blood loss. We're going further upwards to find the others."

With that, the agents split up again and continued their search.

* * *

Reid was running for dear life. He was surer than at anytime in his life that the moment he stopped he was dead. Everyone in a one mile radius wanted him, and the guns were coming closer by the moment. He was getting out of breath and his side was stinging; he knew he had to rest or he'd collapse soon, but there seemed no way out of his situation. He heard footsteps from all around him, could see dark figures moving behind the cover of trees and bushes, even several gunshots were fired somewhere behind him.

There were more of the unsubs. He guessed that P.D. had sent more of his men after him. He could just hope that Hotch and the others would catch _them _first. They must be more important than him right now.

For a brief glimpse he saw Morgan among the trees, about a good twenty yards behind him. He was dangerously close to him and was approaching. Reid panicked and started running forward. So the main target was still him! No matter how many freak criminals were running around waving guns, the qualified agents of the FBI didn't give a damn about them if they had the opportunity to chase after one of their own, who by the way, had committed nothing!

Of all the trouble he was in at the moment, the most painful was the betrayal of his colleagues. He trusted them and relied on them and would have sworn to his life that he could count on their help in everything. Yet no one seemed to believe him now, in fact, they were even determined to catch him and turn him in.

He was thrown to the ground and hit it hard almost the same time the sound of the gunshot was heard. His mouth got full of dirt but suddenly he realized that he was in much deeper trouble than that as he felt sharp pain shoot through his right side.

_It can't be… Has Morgan just shot me?_

He bit back a cry as he tried to move. His hand flew to the wound and he felt warm blood streaming down towards his stomach. It hurt like hell, but the pain of the knowledge that it was his friend that wanted to kill him was a lot worse.

Reid was slowly accepting that he had lost. They had got him; only moments and they would reach him and take him away. He had failed.

Or maybe not yet…

He suddenly became aware of the babbling of a nearby river. As he lifted his head, he could even see where the ground met the water; it wasn't more than five or six yards away. Gathering all his strength, he started crawling towards the riverbank. He only needed to get in and climb out somewhere further and they would lose his track… for a little while at least.

The water was ice cold and the current was strong. Reid ended up falling face first into the waves and when he finally managed to get back over the surface, he was coughing, snorting and gasping for breath. The current grabbed him immediately and pulled him fast with itself. Reid let himself be carried by the river and he stared into the pale sun twinkling behind the passing trees as he drifted away.

* * *

Jessica Gore stepped out of her family's house and sniffled the fresh air that was heavy with the scents of early flowers, trees and wet soil. She loved this scent. It surrounded her when she was home, far from the noise and stink of the town, becoming especially strong in the spring, and she literally felt nature calling her.

She decided to take a walk to the riverbank. It was one of her favorite places; she often lingered there for hours, just sitting on a stone and listening to the whispering water, the music of the tree branches and the singing of the birds.

She had almost reached that place when suddenly she saw something strange, something that didn't fit in the picture. She saw clothes first, a sweater and pants, but as she took a step closer she finally saw that it was a man lying under one of the bushes.

Jessica felt her breath and heartbeat quicken. What should she do? What if the man is dead? She almost turned around to run back home when she saw the slow rising and falling of the man's chest; he was breathing. She cautiously approached the guy to take a closer look at him. He was lying on his side; his longish brown hair half covered his face but to Jessica he seemed pretty young; not much older than her although she was only sixteen.

The man suddenly opened his eyes and looked at the girl. His whole body flinched and Jessica saw a glimpse of fear in his eyes for a brief moment while she herself took a step backwards too. But after the first shock, both of them seemed to calm down a bit. Jessica walked closer and that was when she noticed a large, unnaturally red stain on the young man's sweater.

"You're hurt," she established in a soft voice as she kneeled down next to him. There was no more fear in the man's big, brown eyes, only exhaustion and pain.

"What happened to you?" Jessica asked, but as she didn't get an answer, she tried something else.

"Okay, my name is Jessica, what's yours?"

The man remained silent; he just kept staring at her with those big, sad eyes. Jessica carefully lifted the end of his sweater to see how bad his wound was, but he pulled away, even pushed away her hands with his as if trying to protect himself.

"It's okay, I just want to help," Jessica explained, and drew back her hand only to put it down on the guy's shoulder. This time he didn't resist.

"I live in a house not so far from here. If you came with me, I could treat your wound. It looks bad, you need help with it. Or do you want me to call an ambulance? Though our phone is not working right now but I can…"

The man shook his head wildly.

"Okay, then you should come home with me. Can you walk?"

The man didn't answer, just laid his head back on the ground tiredly and closed his eyes. Jessica sighed. She needed help to be able to help this guy.

She turned and started hurrying back towards the house.

* * *

When Reid opened his eyes next time, he saw a grown man standing above him. Scared that it was one of his pursuers, the young agent gasped and tried to get up as fast as he could, but he failed. His limbs were stiff and the pain in his side was so bad that he only managed to crawl backwards a few inches. Defeated, he looked up once more, and then he saw the girl who had already been here before. She was standing next to the man, and they didn't move.

"It's okay, buddy," the other man said now. "My sister said you were hurt. I came to help."

Reid didn't answer. He didn't know whether he could trust these people, but the girl seemed too young to have any malice. Anyway, he was so exhausted and at the end of his strength that he couldn't have done anything to protect himself. So he decided to just give up, and let things happen – even if he was about to die.

The older man now crouched down and reached for Reid's arm.

"Are your legs hurt?"

Reid closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt like he was lying here under the bush for ages, and the idea of getting up seemed just unreal. Besides, though he didn't remember hurting his legs, they were pretty stiff and refused to move, probably due to the long time spent in the ice cold water. He just realized how cold he was and started to shiver.

"Come on, I'll help you get up and then you can lean on me."

He distantly heard the voice of Jessica's brother, and soon he felt strong hands pulling him up by the arms. He was dizzy but they held him firmly, not letting him fall over. His rebelling feet seemed to start moving at last. Jessica and her brother put his arms around their shoulders and started escorting him back to where they came from.

Though Reid fought with all his strength to keep walking and stay upright, his head was hanging down to his chest and the majority of his weight was practically carried by the two siblings at the end of the quarter mile distance that separated the river from the house. He was barely awake when they guided him to a bed, and by the time he was laid down properly, he was unconscious.

"He seems to be out cold," the brother established as he panted from the effort and looked over the now still figure.

"That's good," Jessica nodded. "I won't have to worry about anesthetics when I dig that bullet out."

* * *

**Tell me what you think! Is there any need for continuing? :) FFV**


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.: Thanks to all the wonderful people who have reviewed the first chapter! Now I see that I really need to continue it...:) Unfortunately the exams' time of the year had just begun and I'll probably have less time to write... so sorry if I'm late with the updates, but in return I'll try to write longer chapters:)**

**Beta-read by REIDFANATIC.  
**

Chapter Two

**Two days earlier**

_Agent Reid,_

_I have friends in the prisons. I have friends everywhere. You're dead._

_P.D._

Reid stared confusedly at the short e-mail that had come from an unknown sender. He didn't really know how to react to this. He wasn't quite accustomed to getting threatening messages; in fact, this was the first one he had received. For a moment he wondered where this mysterious person could get his e-mail address then realized that it was practically public knowledge. He gave it to a lot of people and often attached it to the articles he wrote, in case someone had any questions.

_P.D… _The monogram didn't say anything to him. It could be anyone, since it might have been a nick as well. And what the heck did he mean that he had friends in the prisons? Like he was ever likely to be sent behind bars…

Reid shrugged inwardly. Now only one question was left: should he tell anyone from the team about it? He considered for a moment. This probably wasn't a big deal. Hotch and the others had probably gotten a lot of messages like that; no one seemed to take it serious. Family members of the criminals who they had caught often just couldn't accept what happened to their loved ones. They sought some kind of revenge, but actually they could never do anything harmful.

He managed to convince himself that it wasn't a big deal; so he decided not to bother the others. They deserved some rest after all; their latest case was a really disgusting and bloody mess. A runaway psycho, who they had managed to catch moments before he was abut to kill his last victim, had been slaughtering people in a very brutal way, cutting their stomach and taking out the intestines, decorating the walls with them. He had been moving logically though, as it turned out at the end; two victims coming after one another had always shared a relative or a friend. After he was finished with the action, he must have searched the house for pictures and addresses, looking for his next victim. The BAU did everything they could, managed to get a dozen people into protection, but there were just too many, and the unsub had a brilliant talent for finding them. Three more victims were found even after the FBI started investigating the case, and everyone had a hard time each time they found out that there was another person they couldn't save. Even when they finally got him, the plane ride home and the next day passed in silence, with a couple of quiet words at best.

A reminder alert popped up on the right lower corner of the monitor, telling him that he had to visit Mr. Douglas Jacobson. Reid sighed. The old man was a relative of the saved last victim, Helena, and they both knew the previous one; so they both had been potential victims. Mr. Jacobson was given protection in time but they couldn't reach Helena and it almost led to her death. Fortunately things had turned out better, and Reid had volunteered for the task of informing him about the solution of the case.

As he stood up and gathered his stuff, a thought crossed his mind. He didn't want the other profilers to know about the threatening message and how it had unsettled him; but there was someone who was different, who had probably never received such e-mails since she always stayed hidden in the background, whose e-mail address wasn't public and plus, who possibly would know if the others had _really _gotten messages like that.

He knocked on the open door politely, knowing that Garcia would be scared to death if he just addressed her from a two-foot distance, his voice cutting in the soft humming of the computers like a lightning bolt. Still she startled a bit at the sound of the knocking; but it was barely notable.

"Come in, whoever you are," Garcia answered in a singsong voice without even bothering to turn around.

"Hi Garcia," Reid greeted her modestly and approached the monitors.

"Hi sugar, come here, make yourself comfortable and tell me everything that is making your heart feel heavy."

Reid complied, pushing away some papers that were left untidily on the chair while trying to sit down, but he wasn't careful enough and the papers slipped down onto the floor, flying in every possible direction.

"Never mind that, I should have thrown them out a long time ago," Garcia whisked with her hand when Reid started collecting the papers. "Just sit down and talk."

"Um… actually I have a very strange question," the young agent started.

"Go on."

"My question is about… threatening messages."

"Threatening messages?" Garcia finally tore her eyes away from her monitors to look at Reid.

"Yeah, you know, there is this friend of mine, who has this friend of his, who has received an e-mail that… threatens him."

"Oh honey, someone has sent you a message like that?" Garcia asked, getting the point immediately, despite Reid's careful approach.

"Apparently."

"You seem pretty worried."

Reid chuckled. "Actually I don't really know if I should be worried," he said. "I've never received threatening e-mails before."

"Never mind that," Garcia smiled, "Like you were the first one with this problem."

"What?"

"Hotch and Gideon had already received over a dozen. Even Morgan has come up with a few."

"Really, then why did they never mention it?"

The technical analyst's grin grew even wider. "Same reason you didn't want to. Nobody likes receiving messages like that. They just don't want to show that it makes them worried and uncomfortable. I think Hotch doesn't even take them seriously anymore, but that's understandable; looking at the numbers of messages, he is the absolute winner."

Reid caught himself smiling too. "And… what did they do with them?"

"Practically? Nothing. Every time they get one, they unleash me on it to try and find the sender, but that's almost impossible. You can very easily send an email to someone without making him know it's from you. Deleted accounts, hacked accounts, the list is long. In fact, I was only successful twice, and both of them confessed. It seems to me that they don't really think it's serious. People usually get angry over the things we do, for example sending their relatives or friends behind bars, and they feel they have their revenge by writing messages like that, wanting to scare us but there's nothing behind that."

"Yeah, I was thinking pretty much the same," Reid nodded, "just wanted to hear somebody else's opinion too."

"You can always count on me with that," Garcia winked. "Maybe if you showed me that letter, I could try to see what I can do…"

Reid shrugged. "I deleted it."

"Seems like _you _don't take this too seriously either," Garcia shook his head. "What did it say?"

"I didn't need to keep it," the young agent retorted, pointing to his head. "I remember every word. It said: Agent Reid, I have friends in the prisons, I have friends everywhere, you're dead, P.D."

He spluttered the end of the sentence so fast that Garcia could barely understand it. "I don't really understand what he wanted to say with that," she admitted at last. "And do those letters ring a bell to you?"

"Not really," Reid shook his head. "It could be a lot of people. It may as well be a monogram of a fictional name. Or a shorting to a phrase like… Parrots' Day or I don't know…"

"Parrots' Day, that's funny, I like it," Garcia grinned, "Any other ideas?"

Reid looked at her helplessly and didn't answer. "Okay, honey, what's important is that you shouldn't pay attention to them. Don't let them make you anxious or anything. Just forget it and do what you would do anyways."

"Thanks Garcia," Reid nodded gratefully.

* * *

The meeting with Mr. Jacobson was rather boring to Reid. The old man wasn't content with dry facts about the case as he had been hoping; he invited the young agent in for a cup of coffee and demanded that Reid tell him every detail. Reid protested at first, but Mr. Jacobson was the kind of man to whom you couldn't say no; and Reid soon felt like he was a little child arguing with his grandfather, so he gave up at the end. Probably his inability to resist a steaming cup of coffee also had an influence on his decision.

What he thought would be a ten-minute visit turned into a whole-afternoon conversation. Mr. Jacobson was Helena's uncle and they had no other living relatives, so he was a bit overprotective of her and the recent events only seemed to make it worse. He wanted to know everything about the murderer, the procedure of the investigation, the development of the profile, the methods the agents used to catch him, and, most of all, he wanted proof that the killer was locked in a hundred percent secure prison and he'd never walk free. Reid calmed him down, doing his best not to sound tired or bored. He noticed that since Mr. Jacobson lived on his own, he probably had very few people to talk to, and this must have been the reason why he seemed to enjoy the young agent's company so much. When there was nothing more to say about the case, the old man changed subject and started talking about his family, friends, cats, hobbies, and so on. Reid listened to him patiently, nodding from time to time, and answering questions, clutching his long cold and empty cup and glancing stealthily at the clock.

It was past eight p.m. when he finally managed to get away from Mr. Jacobson and arrived home. He felt a bit annoyed that his whole day was gone; he would have had better things to do, but they would now be postponed to tomorrow. He just hoped they wouldn't get another case then.

* * *

When he woke up the next morning to the ringing of his alarm clock, he felt like he hadn't been sleeping for half an hour. He vaguely remembered getting up from his couch at about one a.m., having fallen asleep while watching TV, and stumbling back to his bedroom; fortunately he remembered to set his alarm to wake him in time.

He climbed out of the bed and started changing his clothes, half sleeping. _I want the weekend, now. _He decided to make some coffee and while the machine was working, he went to the bathroom to wash his face. The cold water helped him to become more alert. Just as he was beginning to enjoy his coffee, his cell phone rang and he startled, not really being used to be called this early. The call display showed it to be Garcia.

_Tell me it's not something urgent._

"Yeah," He flipped open the phone.

"Hi Reid, listen, I have bad news." Garcia's voice was missing the usual, playful tone.

"Just when I thought I would have a nice, uneventful day," he sighed. "What is it?"

"It's Douglas Jacobson."

"Jacobson, what about him?" Reid asked impatiently but he was cut off by Garcia's trembling voice.

"He's dead."

* * *

**uh oh... well it may not be as simple as it seems... Anyways, review if you liked the chap!;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.: Alright my friends, here's the next chapter! I have a feeling you'll like it;) I think I will post the chapters like this, one playing in the past and one in the present; well until the past catches up to where we've begun. Thanks again for the fantastic flood of feedbacks, now I have a strong motivation to continue the story:) Beta-read by the kind REIDFANATIC.**

Chapter 3

**Present**

Jessica watched the young, skinny man lying in the bed in front of her, trying to find out who this guy could really be. His hair and clothes were still so wet that they were cleaving to his thin frame. She had already pulled off the sweater that was blocking her way to the wound and she was surprised to see that he was wearing a shirt and a tie under it which made him look more like a businessman than a criminal.

"So you say that the FBI was here looking for him?" She called to her brother, who was in the kitchen, warming water for the procedure of getting the bullet out of the injured man.

"Yeah," Andrew came in and leaned against the doorframe. "And not only the FBI. There was another group of men before the FBI, I don't know who they were, and they didn't say if they were members of any organization. I told them he wasn't here, I told the FBI guys too, but they insisted on searching the house. Just after they were gone, you came and said you found someone at the river." He chuckled, shaking his head. "He must be some really big fish."

"He seems to be in serious trouble," Jessica said. "He needs help. Do you think he's a criminal?"

"No," Andrew shook his head again. "The chief of the FBI people said that he's not dangerous to anyone. He said something about only needing him for interrogation, but I didn't really understand."

"What do we do when they come back?" Jessica asked, a hint of anxiety in her voice as she looked at the young man lying so vulnerably in front of her. "Are you going to give him up?"

"What should we do?" Andrew shrugged. "If they only want to question him, there's no use in hiding him and by the way, we can get in trouble doing that. Look, we have no car, we have no phone at the moment, so I presume he won't go anywhere for a while, unless the Bureau comes back."

He looked down at his sister's worried face. "I know how you feel, but you know that no matter how clever you are, he will need a real doctor sooner or later, and better sooner than later."

Jessica nodded and turned back to her 'patient'. She pressed the cloth back onto the wound, out of which blood was still oozing but not as heavily as before. The kid didn't even flinch, though it must have been quite painful; he was probably so deeply unconscious that even pain couldn't burst through to reach his mind.

"Water's ready," Andrew reported from the kitchen and seconds later he came in, carrying a large bowl full of warm, almost hot water.

"Thanks," Jessica said, "just put it there."

She had already prepared the things she was going to need – nippers, bandages, antiseptics - on the small bedside table next to her. Now she turned her full attention to the injury on the man's side. After carefully unbuttoning his shirt, she folded it sideways so that it wouldn't disturb her during her work. There was blood everywhere, the kid had obviously lost a lot of it; but he'd live. As Jessica cleaned the wound with the warm wet cloth, she sensed something that caught her attention. It seemed as if one of his ribs was broken or at least cracked by the force of the impact; fortunately it was in place, and Jessica noted that she had to be even more careful.

She took the nippers and sat down on the floor in order to see the bullet hole better. After taking another quick glance at the unconscious man, she cautiously pulled away the edges of the wound and slowly tucked the nippers in. She had to be extremely careful not to cause more damage than had already been inflicted; so she was advancing forward at a very low pace, millimeter by millimeter, until she finally felt the hard and metallic surface of the bullet. Sighing and resisting the urge to wipe away the cold sweat from her forehead, she managed to grab it with the nippers, beginning to pull it out just as slowly as before.

It was just about then that the man suddenly moved. He groaned softly and turned his head towards the girl while his muscles tensed and his whole body started shifting.

"No, stop that," Jessica hissed in concentration. "Stay still, idiot, it's almost out."

The man groaned again in pain, his heavy breathing becoming labored, and was obviously making pitiful attempts to get away from the cause of his pain.

"I said stay still!" Jessica ordered him angrily, raising her voice to almost shouting. "If you move I will accidentally hurt you, understand? It's only a little left…"

Much to her surprise, the man calmed down, as if he really understood the situation. His groans softened to whimpering, and Jessica wondered how he could stop himself from giving into his instincts in his semi-conscious state.

It took a few more seconds that felt like hours and the bullet was finally out. The man was breathing heavily and was obviously in a great amount of pain. Jessica was relieved though, apparently she had succeeded.

"See?" She asked smiling "It's much better now isn't it?"

The wound had started bleeding again, this time more intensely, and she quickly pressed the cloth back against it, ignoring the kid's gasp.

"Sorry, I know it hurts," she apologized, "but you can trust me. I'm preparing to be a doctor; I know a lot of things. Last year, our dog was shot by one of the local hunters. I took the bullet out of him too, and he's healthy and lives to this very day. Believe me, you're gonna be okay."

The man blinked twice as a sign of his understanding. He was silent now, only glaring at her with wet brown eyes that were gleaming in his pale face from under heavy eyelids. After a couple of seconds, the eyelids closed and he appeared to lose consciousness again.

"Andy, could you help me with the bandages?" Jessica called out to his brother.

"Of course," he stepped back into the room. "Did everything go smoothly?"

"Yeah," she said, "you'll need to lift him up, and hold him in a sitting position. I promise I'll try to be quick."

Without a word, Andrew pulled Reid up by the shoulders and then put his arms under the injured man's armpits to hold him in place. Reid's head lolled down; he was no doubt out again.

"Careful," Jessica warned, "he may have a cracked rib. Now hold his arms… good."

She quickly bandaged the wound, reeling the band around Reid's torso a couple of times.

"Okay, I'm finished."

Andrew carefully laid the young man back onto the bed. "Now we just have to wait. In a couple of days he'll be all right," she continued, smiling contently at her brother. "I think I'm gonna cook some soup now. Are you hungry?"

* * *

Hotch wasn't quite content with his team, and it was something that happened to him very rarely.

Not only had they lost track of Reid completely, they hadn't even managed to catch at least one of the unsubs. Hotch couldn't really comprehend how this could occur; there were six or seven people judging by the number and directions of the shots, the agents were even seeing them at the beginning but then… according to the footprints disappearing at the opposite end of the forest, there was a big vehicle waiting for them and they managed to escape. This might have happened even before the FBI knocked on the door of the lonely house on the other side of the river, asking the tall, blonde man who came out if he had seen Reid or anybody else around. The blonde man said he didn't see anyone; he even gave his consent to the agents to search his house, however, they found nothing.

The sudden ringing of his cell phone pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Hotchner."

"_Sir…_" Garcia's voice was full of anxiety. She had already been informed that they'd failed to find Reid. Still there was something in her voice that made Hotch nervous too. "_Sir, I've just got the test results._"

"What test results?"

"_The… blood you found on the forest ground._"

"Yeah?"

"_You won't be happy about it…_"

"Say it Garcia!"

"_Sir… that blood appears to be Reid's._"

Hotch felt his heart skip a beat. "What? Are you sure?"

"_Yes, sir._" Garcia's always cheerful voice now sounded low and very distant.

"Damn," was all Hotch could say.

"_You have to find him!_" Garcia begged. "_My poor baby… he's hurt somewhere out there, with no one to help him! You have to find him!_"

"It's okay, Garcia," Hotch tried to calm her somewhat. "We'll start searching again immediately. He was probably taken further down by the river. We'll find him, I promise."

The line went dead without Garcia saying goodbye, and the unit chief had a feeling she was fighting with her tears, probably already giving way to them.

Reid's blood right at the point where Morgan stated he had shot an unsub… that was very bizarre. Could it really be that Morgan shot someone without seeing who it was? If Hotch could choose, he wouldn't have told Morgan, at least not until they'd found Reid, but he couldn't avoid that. He had to give a reason why he was ordering the agents to go out and start looking for their youngest again; and lying was never his way of solving problems.

He could just hope that Reid had really traveled further up the river and that was why they hadn't found him yet… he didn't dare to think about the other option. That the young agent was taken by the group of unsubs. That would mean the team was further away from finding him than ever.

* * *

Several hours later, Reid awoke to a terrible pain.

His right side was on fire, although he wasn't moving at all, and that made him frightened to the edge of panic until his dazed mind realized that nobody was actually torturing him. It was the simple action of breathing that sent waves of burning pain rushing through his chest and side, and it wasn't getting better. His involuntary groans softened to whimpering as he became more and more alert. He moved his head carefully and peeked around the room; he appeared to be alone, but this place was definitely not a hospital as he had first thought.

Vaguely he remembered a young, blonde-haired girl talking to him, trying to calm him. But where was she now? He tried to call out but his voice was no stronger than a whimper, and no one answered.

_What am I supposed to do?_

He wanted painkillers, in fact he craved them. Not moving when injured was one thing, but he never thought he would be in an agony like this, caused by something as basic as the need for breathing. He couldn't avoid the pain or he would have drowned. Every time he took a breath and his lungs expanded, it felt like he was stabbed in the ribs with a sharp, merciless knife.

Fighting back the tears that started building up in his eyes he tried to decide what to do. He noticed that someone had taken off his sweater and tie; his shirt was unbuttoned and there was a tight bandage across his abdomen. So that girl had really treated him… now he could remember that he woke up at some point while she was still here. But where could she be now?

Deciding himself, he held his breath and carefully turned to the side. The movement caused him more pain but he'd already prepared himself for that. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead and neck as he continued to push himself up onto his elbows in order to get up.

He was about halfway out of the bed when the girl rushed in, gasping as she saw the injured man.

"What do you think you're doing?" She nearly shouted at him and caught his arms to support him. "You're not supposed to move, you'll only hurt yourself more!"

With that, she gently pushed him back onto the bed. Reid couldn't suppress a whimper as his bent torso straightened again.

"I know it hurts," Jessica said sympathetically. "That's why you have to lie still. Or if you need to go to the bathroom, just say and Andrew will help you. Do you want me to call him?"

Reid shook his head and slowly closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, we've run out of pain meds," Jessica continued. "But Andrew will go and get some first thing in the morning. Until then all I can offer are sleeping pills."

The young agent nodded and opened his eyes again, lifting his pain-filled gaze to the girl.

"What's your name?" She asked.

Reid didn't answer. His mind was still fuzzy and he could only comprehend about half of what the girl had said. At last he opened his mouth to say something only to find that he was unable to speak, managing to just groan instead.

"Well tell me something Johnny," Jessica moved on, "who exactly are you and what have you done? Because I heard half the country is looking for you. My brother told me that there was a group of people here, asking after you and then another group who called themselves the FBI. That makes you a really interesting person to me," she smiled, "so I'm dying to hear your story. Don't worry, I promise I won't tell anyone."

Reid closed his eyes tiredly. So his team had already been here, searching for him, and that meant they would come again, sooner or later. He didn't know if he wanted to be found. All he knew was that he wanted some painless rest and time to think over his situation.

"Alright, we can talk later," Jessica said as if she understood what Reid's silence meant. "I'll bring you those sleeping pills then. You need to rest."

With that she hurried out of the room, returning a minute later with the medicine and a glass of water. "You need to drink all the water," she warned, "or you'll dehydrate."

Realizing how thirsty he actually was, Reid complied gratefully, lifting his head only high enough to be able to swallow properly.

Soon, everything felt better as he drifted off to the artificial sleep.

* * *

**Sooo how did you like it?:)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N.: Okay, since a lot of other authors have surprised their readers with a new chapter of their current story as a Christmas gift, I think I'll just do the same then:) Merry Christmas to everyone and big thanks to those who had reviewed the previous chapter! Beta-read by REIDFANATIC.**

Chapter Four

**One day earlier**

"It's Douglas Jacobson."

"Jacobson, what about him?"

"He's dead."

Reid felt like the blood in his veins had suddenly turned to freezing ice.

"_What?_"

"His maid found him this morning when she came to clean his house. His throat was slit with a knife, his stomach open and his intestines…" Garcia trailed off, voice broken.

Reid could hardly believe that he was not dreaming and this was all true. He was still standing in the middle of the kitchen, frozen to the spot, even unable to stumble to a chair to sit down.

"You visited him yesterday, right?"

"Yeah, but there was nothing wrong then…" He mumbled, finally finding his voice.

"Reid, listen to me," Garcia interrupted, sounding more serious than ever, "Hotch wants you to stay right where you are. Strauss had sent some people to your place to escort you here, they could be there in any minute."

"Fine, but why…" Reid started, then suddenly realization hit him. "Wait, you don't think I did it? You want to handle me as a suspect?" He felt his heart start beating faster; he began pacing his apartment, eyes scanning nervously everything as if he was a trapped wild animal.

"Honey, don't be stupid," Garcia hurried to calm him. "None of us thinks you have anything to do with it. It's just… it's not our case, that's all. Strauss had already made measures, and apparently she thinks that Hotch and the team may be… emotionally affected since it's about you, and…"

Hearing these words, Reid felt the last bit of his strength leave him and he collapsed on the couch, exhausted and trembling. So now he couldn't even count on the team. Not because of them, but because they are 'emotionally affected'.

"I don't know much yet," Garcia went on, "but I don't believe they consider you as a suspect. You just need to be questioned about Jacobson, because you are very likely the last person who saw him alive. The escort group is just a… part of the protocol, I think."

"I hope so," Reid breathed.

"Don't worry, we'll find the one who did this," Garcia said in a soft voice. "And don't forget that we are always behind you. Hotch probably wouldn't want me to tell you this, but right now as we speak he's busy trying to make things go as smooth as possible to spare you more inconvenience."

"Thank you," Reid muttered as he calmed down a bit. All in all, he could _still _count on the team. Even if their hands were bound, they were trying to do everything to help – that gave him a lot of comfort.

Suddenly a loud knocking was heard.

"Um, I gotta go, it must be them," Reid said, "wish me luck."

"See you soon, sweetcheeks," Garcia answered.

Reid hung up the phone, sank it into his pocket and hurried to open the door. There stood two men in black suits and sunglasses, their arms crossed on their chests. To be honest, Reid felt a bit disappointed at the sight of them; he hoped that at least Morgan would volunteer to be a member of the escort group.

"Dr. Spencer Reid?" One of the agents asked in a quite unfriendly tone. To Reid's reluctant nod, he continued. "Would you come with us please? I assume you've already been informed…"

"Um, yes, just two minutes, I have to get myself ready. Come in," Reid said nervously, letting the two guys inside.

"Oh, and there will be no need to bring your gun," the other agent said as they walked in, looking around in the small apartment.

_What? Why? _Reid was confused. Why couldn't he bring his gun when he wasn't a suspect? He didn't dare to ask it however; just made a mental note to come back for it as soon as he was over this whole mess.

As he grabbed his bag in the living room, he automatically peeked out of the window; and that was when something caught his attention. First he didn't realize what exactly was wrong with the street but then it became clear. There weren't any FBI cars parked in front of the house beside his. _And I don't think we're going with public transport, _he thought.

"What are we going to travel with?" He asked as he returned to the black-suited men. One of them was just exploring the kitchen, the other one fiddling with his tie in front of the hall mirror. He turned to Reid slowly and bored.

"Excuse me?"

"I… didn't see your car parked out there," Reid gestured towards the window. As the man stood there silently, without answering, another suspicion formed in the young agent's mind. "I'm sorry, but have you showed your badges?"

The agent still didn't answer, but reached for his pocket in a very low pace, as if he was really annoyed, but when he drew his hand out, there was nothing in it. Reid stared at him bewildered for a second, then all hell broke loose. The agent made a small, strange nod, and a moment later Reid noticed something moving in the edge of his vision, but before he could do anything he felt something hard hit the side of his head. He let out a small cry of pain as he lost his balance and fell against the wall. Black spots were dancing in front of his eyes and as he turned, he saw the two 'agents' closing in on him. One of them had something in his hand that bore a strange resemblance to his mother's rolling pin that he kept in one of the kitchen drawers. Reid panicked. Who the hell were this guys and what did they want from him?

The rolling pin ascended and Reid quickly lifted his arm in front of his face to protect himself just in time, and the blow landed hard on his arm. Reacting fast, he grabbed the black-suited man's wrist and pulled it towards himself, managing to make the guy lose his balance; then pushed him with all his strength against the other one. The men stumbled backwards but weren't knocked off their feet, however, Reid only needed to gain a couple of seconds advantage to turn around and make a run for his gun.

Unfortunately he didn't make it to his bedroom. One of the attackers lunged forward, managing to catch his leg and Reid fell on the coffee table, knocking it over and sending books and stacks of papers spreading all over the floor. He turned onto his back immediately to prepare for fighting, but the man didn't move from where he fell on the floor. Reid's heart beat wildly in his chest as he slowly got to his feet; the attacker had apparently hit his head in the edge of the coffee table and lost consciousness.

The young agent panted and watched the motionless body horrified, forgetting fully about the other man until he grabbed Reid by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

"You'll pay for this, jerk," he hissed through his teeth, then pulled the kid with himself into the bathroom and slammed him against the edge of the sink too. Reid gasped in pain but the next moment he launched himself forward, trying to push the guy away from himself. However, since the man was twice his size, he only lost his balance and both of them stumbled sideways, hitting the big bathroom mirror that shattered immediately. Broken pieces rained down on them, and Reid quickly jumped out of the door as the 'agent' was busy protecting himself.

He didn't get far this time either. The attacker caught him right at the spot where the other one did a couple of moments ago, and the young agent landed on top of the unconscious man. This time he wasn't lucky either, soon the first man was over him, kneeling on his chest and a hand closed around his throat, strangling him, blocking the way of the little air that could have gotten into his struggling lungs…

And then Reid's flailing hand found the rolling pin on the floor, next to the unconscious agent.

He brought it down desperately on the head of his attacker; once, twice, three times, and suddenly the pressure disappeared from his throat and chest. Coughing, Reid crawled away, still clutching onto the rolling pin as if his life depended on it. _Probably it really did._

The other agent was slowly getting up too. The blows weren't strong enough to knock him out; he was growling and making his way towards Reid, who faced a difficult decision. He wanted to get his gun from the bedroom, but it meant that he would have to get past his attacker, and he couldn't risk getting trapped between a wall and the furious man again.

The guy came closer and Reid, once again losing his rationality to his panic, sped towards the apartment door, grabbing only his messenger bag in the hurry. He only realized at his car that he still held the rolling pin, which, as he now noticed, was slightly bloody at the end. He threw it away in disgust, not paying attention to the fact that it could have been his blood as well. Glancing back over his shoulder to see if he's followed, he jumped into the car and pulled off, heart still racing and his body shaking uncontrollably.

* * *

As Morgan entered the bullpen, he was greeted with an unnaturally big hustle. Everyone seemed to be running around, talking loudly in phones or to each other, looking extremely busy with something.

"What the hell?" He murmured under his nose as he stepped to Prentiss and JJ who were engrossed in a conversation next to a desk.

"Girls, what's happening in here?" He asked.

"Where have you been?" Prentiss asked back, as if he just missed the event of the year.

Morgan looked at her with a frustrated look on his face. "On my way here, why? Come on, I'm not even late for work! It's not my fault if everyone forgot to call me and tell me there's an emergency. Now tell me what it is!"

JJ exchanged a look with Prentiss before she answered, reluctantly. "It's Reid."

"What happened to him?" Morgan asked, nervousness growing inside him. _What on earth had the kid gotten himself into this time?_

"He was at Mr. Jacobson's yesterday, you know, the uncle of Helena Jacobson, to inform him about how we solved the case. And Jacobson was found dead this morning."

"What? How?" Morgan just didn't know where to start the row of questions.

"He was murdered, cause of death is a wound on his throat caused by a kitchen knife." Prentiss enlightened him with a hint of anxiety in her voice.

"Where is he now?" Morgan asked impatiently, referring to Reid.

"Probably on his way here with a couple of agents."

"_What?_"

"Strauss doesn't want us to work on the case." JJ explained with a desperate expression on her face. "Derek, I don't know what she wants to do, as far as we know he'll only be questioned but I'm afraid… what if they consider him a suspect?"

"That's ridiculous," Morgan snorted, shaking his head. "Reid killing someone? Nobody can believe this bullshit. I mean, he has a history with the FBI, we all know him, he should be above all kind of suspicion…"

Prentiss nodded. "I think it's not very likely that he'll end up being a suspect. They will need proof, and since we all know he's innocent, there's no way they'll find any."

Hotchner approached them, holding a cell phone to his head and talking, his voice was full of tension.

"…You sure?... Fine, I'll ask around. …Of course we'll find him."

"What's it?" Morgan hurried to ask as soon as he hung up the phone.

"Have any of you talk to Reid in the past half an hour?" Hotch asked, the expression on his face more serious than ever.

All three of them shook their heads. "Why?" JJ asked.

"He's gone," Hotch announced.

"What?" Morgan's jaw dropped. The third surprise of this very day.

"I just talked to one of the guys who were supposed to bring him here. He says Reid's not at home."

"Does he know that he's supposed to be escorted here?" Prentiss asked.

Hotch nodded. " Garcia called him and told him everything, about twenty minutes ago. He didn't protest."

"Then where the hell could he be?" Morgan felt anger rising inside him. He felt sorry and worried about the kid but running away from the FBI was just the stupidest move he could ever imagine. It was not very typical of Reid.

"I don't know," Hotch answered, looking in the eyes of the trio, one after the other. "But I'll send Garcia to track down the signal of his cell phone. Hope he's got it with him."

* * *

**well well we are in trouble now...:D**

**I'll try to update soon. After Christmas I count on having a bit more time... to write!:)  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N.: Hi there, I tried to write this sooner but I hadn't got too much time**... **my little cousins are here at our place and I have to look after them a lot, and besides I have to study for my exams too... however I try to do my best at writing...:)**

**Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews you wrote, I'm really glad that so many people is enjoying my story. Beta-read by REIDFANATIC. Here you go!  
**

Chapter Five

**Present**

Reid didn't quite know when exactly he woke up. He had been emerging out of sleep just like others drift away into it. At some point he noticed that he was conscious again, lying on the bed in the same position that he was laid down hours before. It was growing uncomfortable but he didn't dare to move. The pain in his side was more bearable now; it was reduced to a dull, distant throbbing that only raised one level when he breathed.

He could hear the muffled chatting of the girl and the man from the kitchen. They sounded happy and free of problems. Reid let his gaze wander around the room once again, this time looking at things more carefully. Everything seemed peaceful as if he was in the house of a big, loving family.

The clock on the opposite wall showed a little before nine p.m. _Was it really that late?_ As he tried to recall the events of the day, he came to the conclusion that it must have been about noon when the blonde-haired girl and her brother carried him to the house. That meant nine hours sleeping.

As much as Reid hated the idea of having lost so much time, he wondered why the team hadn't showed up looking for him again. Could it be that they had given up on him so easily? Definitely not. As he grew more and more alert, he realized that as much as he longed to see them and let them help him, he feared what would happen when he was finally found. He couldn't let them get him, not now. He needed more time…

Just then he heard footsteps approaching his room, and then Jessica entered, humming a soft melody to herself, apparently not noticing that Reid was awake. She opened the dresser and started digging through some clothes when she suddenly heard the man weakly calling her name.

"Jessica," Reid managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

She turned around and as her eyes met Reid's, her face lit up. "Wow, so you're talking to me now! What great progress!" She teased, but her voice was warm and kind. "I was afraid that you were dumb or something, but thank God you aren't. So how are you?"

"K'you brimme so' water?" The young agent croaked.

"Water?" Jessica echoed. "I didn't understand the rest but I assume you'd like to drink some." She grinned and hurried out to fulfill the request.

After Reid swallowed a couple of sips of the cool liquid, he felt his voice come back more. "Wha… what happened?"

Jessica laughed. "You're asking me? I should be the one asking what happened to you. I found you on the riverbank, with a bullet lodged between your ribs, chased by the FBI and who knows who else!"

"Have they come back?" Reid asked, anxiety growing inside of him.

"No," the girl answered. "No offense, I don't mind you being here, in fact I'm glad that I could help you, but… you could really tell why the FBI is after you… I mean, you must be a very…important person."

Reid smiled, for the first time in days. "I'm not wanted by them. I'm one of them."

Jessica's eyes grew wide. "Really? You're from the FBI? I can't believe it! I never met anyone from the FBI before. But then… why were you fleeing from them? Who shot you?"

"It's a long story…" Reid sighed. "Me and my team were hunting a couple of unsubs… um, unknown subjects, the criminals we're looking for, and well… they fired back. I fell into the river." Reid lied; for some reason he didn't want to admit that he was thinking it was his own colleague, his own friend that had shot him. Besides, he could have seen it wrong. Morgan could have been approaching him, but it could be someone else, one of the unsubs who had fired that shot.

"I need to visit the bathroom please," he announced. "Is it solvable somehow?"

"Of course, I'll call Andy," Jessica nodded and left the room. But Andrew didn't come in immediately, and Reid could hear the two talking softly in the kitchen.

"So, he's up? What did he say?" He heard Andrew ask.

"That he was _with _the FBI," Jessica answered, in a lot colder tone than she had used when speaking with Reid. "They were hunting down some criminals, and he got shot in the crossfire."

"Do you think he's telling the truth?"

"I don't know. What if he is that criminal? I know, he doesn't look like that, but if he really was, he would probably tell us the same tale."

"We have to keep a close eye on him," Andrew whispered before walking in to Reid, who heard every word. So they didn't trust him… that was somewhat understandable. But Reid knew (or at least he felt) that they wouldn't hurt him as long as he didn't give them a reason… and he definitely wouldn't.

"Well hi there, buddy," Andrew smiled at him and his voice was just as smooth and warm as Jessica's before. "My name is Andrew, what's yours?"

"I'm Reid," the young agent answered.

"Reid, it sounds like a last name. What's the first?" Jessica asked curiously, standing in the door and watching the two men. Andrew took one of Reid's arms and gently pulled the young man up, supporting him by the shoulders.

"It's Spencer," Reid answered, hissing as fresh pain stabbed through his chest in the process of sitting up.

"Careful, Spencer," Jessica warned. "One of your ribs may be cracked or broken. Don't move it out of place."

A broken rib? The thought alone made Reid sick. His condition may be worse than he felt. He needed to get to a hospital or to a skillful doctor sooner or later; this wound wouldn't just heal by itself…

His heart was heavy as he was slowly helped to his feet and escorted towards the bathroom. He wanted his team to be by his side more than ever, to support him, to help him in his helpless state, yet he couldn't count on them now. Having the team around him now would have meant that he was caught by the FBI, being accused of denying cooperation, running away, hell, maybe even murdering an old man.

The team was obviously trying to help him, but they weren't almighty. No one could save him from at least a couple of days of seclusion; and then it would be all over. Then he would be dead. He couldn't let that happen.

As he walked with the help of Andrew, he realized that his legs were actually working perfectly. They were weak and shaking a bit though, but the stiffness had gone, and if he could manage not to move his torso much, he could practically walk without pain. Reid almost smiled at this thought: it meant that he could get up and walk away any time he wanted.

Well maybe not really any time… when he arrived back to the bed, he felt so exhausted as if he had been walking miles. Even breathing became a bit harder, and he was grateful that he had a place to lie down.

"Are you hungry?" Jessica asked, smiling. "There's some chicken soup I cooked for lunch, it's cold now but I can warm it up for you."

"That would be great, thank you." Reid nodded, realizing that he hadn't eaten for about a whole day. He didn't feel quite hungry but the rational part of his brain told him that he must eat in order to get his strength back as soon as possible.

"Stay there, I'll bring it to you," the girl chimed and disappeared into the kitchen.

Andrew didn't follow her; he sat down on the edge of Reid's bed. "She just can't sit down for a minute," he explained, smiling. "It's a real blessing for me. I don't have to cook, wash, clean up… she does it all."

Reid smiled back, tiredly. "So it's just her and you living here?" He asked.

"Oh no, our parents live here too," Andrew said, "but they're on some meeting two states away this week. I have a house on my own too, in Stafford, but now I came here to take care of Jessica. Well, it's rather she who takes care of me, though."

Reid nodded again, not knowing what to say.

"So, you're from the FBI?" Andrew went on.

"Um, yeah," the young agent answered, feeling strangely ashamed due to the knowledge that the man probably didn't believe to him.

"Aren't you a bit too young for that? You look even younger than me."

"I know," Reid sighed. He was told that so many times, and he didn't feel like explaining it again. "I was lucky I could get in."

To his relief, Andrew didn't want to know more. He changed subject.

"Then you must have a gun and a badge too, right?"

Reid flushed even deeper. "I… didn't have them with me when I was shot."

"How could that be?" Andrew asked in a surprised tone. "I thought you were chasing a criminal."

That was the point where Reid didn't dare to risk more lies. "You said the FBI was already here before me," he spoke up, "what exactly did they say about me?"

To his surprise, Andrew grinned widely. "That you're not dangerous at all, and I fully believe them. They didn't say you were one of them, though… just that all they want is to question you about some murder that you may have witnessed."

Reid was silent, looking in front of himself, but his mind was working hard. _Why didn't Hotch mention that he was an FBI-agent? Did he want to keep it a secret? Or… could it be that he was no longer working for them? Could it be that he was fired because he ran away and became a fugitive? _He could easily think Strauss was capable of it. And with Hotch's hands bound, his situation was even more hopeless…

"Is it true? Did you really see someone being murdered?"

Andrew's voice pulled him back into reality.

"Um, no," he answered. "I visited an old man. It happened after I left. You have to believe me!" Reid felt suddenly scared that they would think he'd lied about this too and that he was a murderer.

"Easy, kid," Andrew calmed him down, "I believe you. If your people thought that you did it, they wouldn't have told me that you're harmless, right?"

"Dinner's ready," Jessica reported from the door, with a bowl of hot soup on a tray. She balanced the tray over to Reid's bed. He tried to sit up in order to eat, but that was a painful task. He could almost feel his injured rib move, and the dull pain was replaced with a lot sharper one. Jessica watched sympathetically, and as he was finished, she put the tray in the lap of the heavily breathing young man.

"Thanks," Reid moaned and started eating very slowly as if the hot meal was going to hurt his already sore chest. But it felt better as soon as the first couple of swallows reached his stomach, and now he could feel how hungry he actually was.

He couldn't eat the whole bowl; about half of the soup was enough for him, and he gave the rest back to Jessica

"Better now, huh?" The girl smiled.

"A lot," Reid claimed, his eyelids growing heavy after the warm dinner.

"You can sleep now," Jessica nodded. "We all can. It's getting late. See you tomorrow, then!" She gave him one last smile then walked out. Andrew had already left the room earlier, and Reid was left alone to his thoughts. His mind kept wandering back to himself being fired, but he was getting too tired to be worried. He drifted off to sleep without noticing, and without knowing that soon his team would come for him again.

* * *

**Okay I know the chapters describing tbe past are more interesting:) So stay tuned for the next one!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N.: Happy New Year to everyone! This chapter was quite easy to write, with all the wonderful comments you guys wrote to the previous one:) Now I have another set of pretty rough exams this week and the next, so the next chapter might be late a bit, but I'll try my best as always. Beta-read by REIDFANATIC.**

Chapter Six

**One day earlier**

Reid sat in the driver's seat of his car, panting and shaking, laying his forehead on the steering wheel. He had parked down next to a park a few minutes ago and now he was trying to calm himself down. His heart was still racing, his hands were cold and sweaty at the same time. His arm ached where the rolling pin had hit it and he could feel his head too.

_Calm down, it's over._

He would never have imagined that this would happen to him. His mind was working at double speed. Who the hell were these guys and why on earth did they want to hurt him? They were dressed like FBI agents – they _knew _that he was waiting for the escort group! But _how? _He himself was only informed a couple of seconds before they had knocked on the door! And if he hadn't noticed the lack of the car and the badges, they would have taken him away to God-knows-where!

_But it's over now. Calm down. Take deep breaths._

Someone was after him, there was no doubt about that. But who could that be? Reid forced his mind to work harder, recalling the persons involved in their latest case, and the one before it, and so on. He couldn't think of anyone who would want to take revenge on him. They caught the criminals. The last killer had no relatives. The one before the last had a brother, but he was in prison. The one before…

_Stop that. You're not getting anywhere. Calm down and call the team._

The team… Why had that mysterious avenger targeted only him and not someone else on the team? Reid now tried to think of criminals whom he had more contact with than usual. Nothing. They were all behind bars by now. Or dead.

He was suddenly startled by the ringing of his cell phone. Fortunately he had put it in his pocket after he hung up on Garcia so it wasn't left in his apartment like his gun.

"Yeah?" He answered the phone with a trembling voice.

"_Sweetcheeks where are you?_" Garcia's tone was full of worry. "_You should be on your way here with the escort group I mentioned. But they just called in, saying you're not at home._"

"Yeah, I'm not," Reid swallowed, then continued, "I was attacked."

There was a second of silence on the other side of the phone, then: "_What?_"

"I… I don't know, there were these two guys," Reid tried to explain, his voice getting higher and his speech speeding up, "I thought they were the guys you sent. I let them in but they had no badges and then they've turned on me…"

"_Okay, okay, honey, just calm down, you say this happened after we talked?_"

"Yes!" Reid said, "They made a big mess! Didn't that escort group see it? I even managed to knock out one of them but the other one probably carried him away…"

"_That's strange._" There was something suspicious in Garcia's voice.

"Why?"

"_The agents who were to escort you here… said they didn't find anything. Your apartment was neat, everything in place, and there was nothing odd apart from the door being open…_"

"What?" Reid couldn't believe his ears. "It can't be! We were fighting, knocked over my coffee table, a lot of books and papers were scattered all around the living room, I remember! And… and the mirror in my bathroom has broken! Didn't they see it?"

Garcia was silent for a moment. "_There was nothing. No scattered papers, no shards._"

"How could that be?" The young agent was extremely confused. "Have they… cleaned up after themselves? But they had no time! Garcia, when exactly did the escorting agents arrive at my place?"

"_About half past seven, I think._"

"And when did you call me?"

"_Let me see… I'd say about seven fifteen._"

"That's it," Reid went on excitedly, "I was gone at least a good ten minutes before they'd have arrived."

"_You say that in those ten minutes your attackers gathered themselves up, cleaned up the mess and left?_"

"This must be the explanation." Reid said, self-assured, but then suspicion rose in him. "You don't believe me?"

"_Why wouldn't I believe you if you say it? Reid, you're a genius but you can ask some stupid things sometimes. Do you think that e-mail had something to do with it all?_" Garcia changed subject.

The e-mail… Reid had completely forgotten about that. Someone threatened him, then someone killed Mr. Jacobson, trying to make him look suspicious, then someone attacked him at home. The letter said, the sender had friends in the prisons… so he probably wanted to get Reid locked up. This would explain Jacobson's murder, but not the attack. Where would those fake agents have taken him if they had gotten him?

"_Reid?_"

"Um… I don't know, maybe yes. But there's no way we'll ever find out who sent that."

"_Listen Reid, you should come here right away. You can explain all the details later, but Strauss is quite pissed. Don't make her think that you're running away, okay?_"

"Of course," Reid agreed. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"_All right, honey, see you then._"

Reid's hands were still shaking as he put away his cell. Strauss is pissed… but she can't send him to prison just because of this! _There's no reason to be nervous, just go there and tell them everything. _But would they believe him? They'd found nothing in his apartment. It looked like he left of his own will. _Stop that, _he said to himself, _you don't have any other choice than trusting the team to help you._

He sighed and started the car's engine.

* * *

"Agent Hotchner, I expect you to give me your subordinate's whereabouts and a good reason why he hasn't shown up yet, right now." Erin Strauss' angry voice filled the room, which was already full of tension. Hotch was standing in front of her, the usual stoic expression on his face didn't show how nervous he really was. However, he wasn't worrying for himself but for the youngest member of the team who'd vanished from his apartment twenty minutes ago.

"I will, as soon as I find out myself," he answered calmly. "At the moment I have no idea why he left his home, being aware of the fact that he was supposed to be escorted here. Our technical analyst is currently trying to reach him or track down his cell signal."

"You'd better find him soon. His behavior is unacceptable." Strauss shook her head in disbelief. "He's a grown man and a trained FBI agent, does he think he can escape us?"

"I'm sure he's got a pretty good reason," Hotch said, "I know him, he'd never act so randomly of his own will."

Strauss nodded, "I believe you, Agent Hotchner, because I'm aware that you know your people very well. But it would be better for Agent Reid too if he didn't put up a fight with his superiors."

Hotch nodded shortly too, then turned away and left the office. He headed straight for Garcia. The others were already gathered around her; they had heard that she was speaking to Reid and they'd hurried there to catch the last words.

"Did you reach him?" The team leader asked.

Garcia nodded and looked at her boss with anxious eyes. "He says he was attacked."

"_What?_"

"He ran away from his home, because according to him, two men dressed as FBI agents came to his apartment right after we spoke for the first time. He let them in but they attacked him. He fought back and managed to knock out one of them and ran away," Garcia explained. "But when the real agents arrived about ten minutes later, they found the apartment clear and neat, no sign of any struggle; but Reid said there was a big mess, papers and mirror shards on the floor…"

"Did you tell him that he must come here right away?"

"Of course sir, and he agreed. He sounded very terrified, my poor baby! I'm sure he didn't make it up, but we have no idea who could be after him."

"We'll try to make everything clear as soon as he's here," Hotch said with rare sympathy in his voice. "What did he say, when will he arrive?"

Garcia swallowed. "In a couple of minutes. I assume about five or ten. He can't be far."

"All right then," Hotch said, looking at JJ, Prentiss and Morgan who were standing in shocked silence. "Don't worry, we'll handle this. There will be no more problems when he gets here."

But Reid didn't show up after five minutes. Nor did he after ten, nor even after thirty.

* * *

However, it took him only four minutes to get to the BAU building, maybe because while he was driving away from his home in horror, he unconsciously steered in the direction of his workplace. Maybe because he knew that if there was a place where he could get help, it was the BAU and if everyone in the world turned their back on him, his team wouldn't.

His heart was still beating in his throat as he parked almost in front of the main entrance. His hands were shaking too; he didn't even know how he was able to drive all along. He took deep breaths and tried to overcome his nervousness. What would greet him on the other side of the door when he walked in? All the while he was driving he'd had no doubts that this was the only reasonable place to go, but now questions were rising in his mind. Garcia said Strauss was pissed. Could she really arrange things so that he could go to prison? If there was no proof that he was really attacked in his apartment, he practically had no reason to run away. Everyone would think he wanted to escape the FBI, escape the law!

No way. Since he'd been serving the law for so long now and had mostly met successful cases, Reid believed in the victory of justice. Still, a small voice in his head kept telling him that he would somehow be punished. Maybe he wouldn't be sent to prison, but would be locked up for a couple of days… and at that moment fear ripped through him. The letter! The mysterious e-mail sender said he had friends in the prisons… and that he, Reid, was dead! So he would be in deep trouble in any kind of prison… They would take their revenge on him there!

When he was speaking with Garcia, the idea of him being sent behind bars seemed so unreal. But now, as he was facing the BAU building, it was slowly becoming much more real. Why not? Even if he wasn't sentenced or even sent to court, he could very probably be locked up as long as the Bureau investigated the case…

_Like you had any other choice than to go in there and face them._

Reid had to admit that he didn't have. If he went away once more, everything would be much worse. He'd go in, tell them everything including the threatening e-mail and if need be, he'd ask for a solitary cell and strong protection. He wouldn't act like a coward.

Just as he decided and lifted his hand to open the door, something caught his eye. Well it was rather a someone. A man in a black suit, leaning against a silver colored car, crossing his arms on his chest and looking towards the entrance of the building. Reid's eyes narrowed. Was it only his paranoia or did that man really look very familiar?

_Come on, you're ridiculous. Most of the FBI agents dress like that._

But now, just as if he was trying to confuse Reid's thoughts, another man appeared behind the silver car, looking the same, only…

For a brief moment Reid thought he was seeing things. On the second man's forehead there was a bandage, half hidden behind his hair but it was there. Right at the place where Reid's attacker was bleeding after he'd hit his head on the coffee table…

The young agent's mouth stayed partly open in deep shock, and he felt cold sweat break out above his eyebrows. He couldn't believe what he saw. They were _watching_ the building. They were _waiting _for him.

Reid automatically reached for his phone to call someone, but he never made it. Suddenly the first man looked right in his direction; although he couldn't see through the darkened windshield, he had clearly spotted the newly arrived SUV. He motioned to his partner and they set off towards Reid. The young agent just sat in his seat, unable to move, fear paralyzing his body.

_My God, help me. What am I going to do now?_

_

* * *

_**I soooo know you're addicted to cliffies...:D**


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N.: Hi everyone, I'm sorry for the delay, I've been busy with my exams. Three down, only one to go, but I have plenty of time now, so I'll try to post the next chapter sooner. Thanks for your patience and thanks again for the great feedbacks I've received on the previous chap. Well here you go! Beta-read by REIDFANATIC.**

Chapter Seven

**Present**

The next morning found Jessica sitting by Reid's bed, with a cup of tea and a book in her hand. It was the _Wuthering Heights _by Emily Bronte; Jessica loved classical literature. Sometimes she glanced up and took a look at the apparently sleeping young man in front of her; after seeing that everything was okay she returned to reading. She had already noticed earlier that the man was sweating and his forehead was hot with fever; now she was waiting for his restless sleep to end.

Reid was semi-conscious. Again and again he drifted off into sleep, but not too deeply, and almost all of the dreams turned to nightmares at the end. When he briefly came to, he sensed only two things about his world: that his clothes were soaking wet and that his side was throbbing again with burning pain.

After a particularly bad nightmare involving Morgan, Garcia and a pistol, he felt cool fingers stroking his forehead and hair. He opened his eyes and turned his head to see who it was, only to look into Jessica's worried face.

"How do you feel?" The girl asked.

"I've seen better days," Reid smiled, although his voice was low and raspy.

"Are you hurt somewhere?"

"I feel my side a bit," Reid admitted, hoping that Jessica had already gotten those painkillers.

"I'm sorry, Andrew's just left a couple of minutes ago, he'll buy some medicine for you and you'll get them as soon as he comes back. You have a fever too, and I can help you change your clothes if you want to."

"Um, thank you, but my shirt will be enough, I think," Reid said, "and can I have some water please?

"Of course, I've made some tea too. I'd just completely forgotten about it. I'll bring it in a minute."

With that she hurried out of the room. Reid shifted onto his back and started trying to take off his shirt. It proved to be quite hard as almost any little motion he made sent pain searing up in his right side. He clenched his teeth as he pulled one of his arms out of the shirt. He felt more sweat break out on his forehead and flow down his face; he also noticed that the bandage around his torso was not only soaked with sweat but with blood as well.

Swearing mentally, the young agent pulled out his other arm too, then lay back on the bed and breathed deeply, absorbing the pain. The action seemed to suck all energy out of him and he even felt a bit dizzy despite his lying position. The sun was shining into the room through the window and he could see a gentle flood of dust gleaming in the light. It was getting blurrier and he had to make an effort to be able to focus on it.

Jessica returned with a small tray in her hands.

"Oh Spencer, you shouldn't have done it alone," she said with a rather motherly tone, "I would have helped you!"

She quickly put the tray down on the bedside table and sat down, turning her attention to the young man's condition. "You seem to need new bandages as well," she established. "Don't worry; I'll make them for you. But first, you have to drink some tea."

She arranged the pillows and helped Reid sit a bit more upright so that he could drink.

"What do you drink your tea with?" Jessica asked, "Sugar, lemon?"

"Sugar, please," Reid croaked, "lots of it."

For a moment he thought that he should have asked for coffee instead, but as soon as the warm tea entered his mouth, he didn't mind anymore. It was quite delicious and warmed him up inside.

* * *

"Guys, get up, we need to go out again," Hotch addressed his team.

"What? Why?" Confused questions from Prentiss and JJ flew towards him.

"I thought the unsubs had escaped," Rossi joined, "it's not like I'm pleased about it, but…"

"We have to find Reid," Hotch cut them all off.

Morgan shook his head. "He got away too, didn't he? We weren't able to catch him. As smart as he is, he's probably sitting somewhere in another state by now."

"I doubt that," Hotch spoke softly. In the sudden silence, he added, "He's been hurt."

"_What?_"

"How do you know that?" Morgan demanded, but there was considerable worry in his eyes.

The team leader sighed. "The blood we found… DNA proved it was his."

The silence that followed was, if possible, even deeper than previously. JJ covered her mouth with her hand in shock, and pure terror was readable on Prentiss' and Morgan's faces. Even Rossi seemed anxious.

After a couple of long seconds, Morgan spoke up in a barely audible voice. "You're saying… you're saying that I shot _him_?

In the next moment, all four other agents started talking at the same time.

"We can't be sure, it could have been one of the unsubs that wounded him as well," Hotch said.

"It's not your fault, Derek, you didn't see…" JJ said.

"You couldn't have known, we saw him run in the opposite direction," Rossi said.

"Everyone calm down, let's talk this over," Prentiss said, but no one seemed to listen.

Morgan didn't say anything, just lifted his hands to his head, then got up and stormed away. Hotch took a tentative step after him, but Rossi caught his arm.

"Let the ladies do that," he said softly.

Hotch nodded. "Tell him I don't blame him," he called after Prentiss and JJ who were already on their way.

* * *

"Now you'll have to sit up and stay sitting while I change your bandage," Jessica ordered as Reid was finished with his tea.

But Reid didn't want to sit up at all. He knew the pain that was waiting for him and that thought alone made him uncomfortable.

"Um… could I have something to eat before that?" He attempted.

"You can have your breakfast as soon as I'm finished," Jessica laughed. "Come on, don't be a baby, you know I need to do this or the infection will get worse."

Reid didn't like how Jessica pronounced the word 'baby'. He sighed and turned to his side, trying to sit up; Jessica took hold of his arm and helped him as much as she could. Within moments, he was finally seated upright, with his side on fire and his head swimming. He had to close his eyes to overcome the dizziness, and groaned involuntary from the pain.

"Shh, it's okay, we're there," the girl tried to calm him. "Now just stay still."

She carefully unwrapped the bloody bandage. The wound surely wasn't a nice sight; it had been definitely infected. Jessica gently cleaned it with a wet cloth, then reached for the antiseptic which was left on the bedside table from yesterday.

"Now this is gonna sting a bit," she announced and a moment later Reid inhaled sharply as the cold liquid touched the injury. He absorbed the burning pain with closed eyes and deep breaths. Then, when it dropped to a more bearable level, he opened his eyes and before he could stop himself, he began to speak.

"Did you know that the first antiseptic was discovered by a Scottish doctor named Joseph Lister? He was the first to use a chemical to prevent patients who had been through a surgery from developing infections, and it was carbolic acid."

"Really?" Jessica smiled while she was busy re-doing the bandage with clean white gauze. Reid was still breathing hard and seemed to be having trouble staying upright. So she decided to distract him from the pain. "Go on. I'm interested!"

The young agent smiled and looked at her. "Really?" He asked this time.

"Well Lister heard about the French scientist, Louis Pasteur's theory, in which Pasteur stated that there were little organisms called bacteria that were responsible for the spoiling of meat and milk. Lister then thought that these bacteria might have caused the infection in some of his patients too, and decided to try something that could kill them off. He made sure that all medical tools were cleaned in this substance before each surgery, and when a patient developed an infection, he put the chemical directly on the wound to destroy the germs."

"That's really interesting. I've never heard of that before!" Jessica marveled.

"And guess what, with this method Dr. Lister managed to drop the death rate after his surgeries from 50 to 15 percent!"

"How do you know so much?" The girl asked. She was finished with the bandage; now she got up and started pushing Reid gently back onto the pillows.

"I think I just… tend to read a lot." The young agent answered. "I remember everything I've read; I have an eidetic memory. You know… it's like I was photographing the things I see with my brain." He explained, blushing slightly.

"You have to be kidding me," Jessica smiled and shook her head. "That means you could tell me, for example, who was the nineteenth president of the US?"

"Rutherford B. Hayes," Reid said without thinking. "He governed from 1877 to 1881 and his vice president was William A. Wheeler."

"It's amazing," Jessica admitted. "Then where did the Olympic games take place in 1952?"

"Summer or winter Olympic games?"

Jessica laughed.

"Summer games took place in Helsinki, Finland. Winter games in Oslo, Norway. What else do you wish to know?"

"You're like a walking lexicon," the girl said, still laughing.

Reid smiled too. "My colleagues keep telling me the same, I wish I knew why," he joked.

"You won," Jessica said, "now let's get back to your meal, should we? I had toast and bacon for breakfast, are you okay with that?"

"Absolutely," Reid nodded. "Thanks."

It turned out though that he wasn't as hungry as he'd felt before. He managed to fight down only one of the two pieces of toast, and it felt like one more bite would make him throw up. In addition, now that his stomach was full, the bandage around his abdomen felt a lot tighter, and breathing once again became a painful action.

Jessica obviously saw the change on Reid's face as she sympathetically touched his hand. "Don't worry, it'll be a lot better tomorrow."

"I hope so," Reid breathed. He began to feel cold; the fever must have started kicking in with renewed force.

"I'll let you rest a bit, okay?" The girl offered and stood up. "Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you," the young agent nodded again. "Hey, just one thing, if my colleagues from the FBI come back, say you never saw me."

Jessica didn't answer, just stood there in the door, watching the kid who was already half asleep, not sure what to do. Should she really lie to federal agents? She didn't want to get in trouble, although she felt sorry for this injured young man that looked so desperate to hide from his co-workers. But why would he want to hide from them at all? Or was it only the fever making him say this? Jessica was completely puzzled.

After a few moments of thinking, she shrugged and went back in the living room. If nothing better came to her mind before then, she'd just pretend not to be at home.

* * *

**Okay I know we haven't gotten closer to knowing what happened to Reid in the past** **so the cliffie can**** still**** be smelled, but I promise I'll try to update fast. Hugs,**

**Kay  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N.: Sorry everyone that I was late with this, it was finished a couple of days ago, but the mailing system of the site played a tick on me again:S Anyway, I'm very grateful for the kind reviews I've received on the previous chapter! I really try to be a good writer and not to disappoint my readers:)**

**Beta-read by REIDFANATIC. Here you go!  
**

Chapter Eight

**One day earlier**

Fear paralyzed Reid's body as he saw his previous attackers start running towards his car. The doors were locked. Would these guys break the windows if he refused to get out? After a short mental debate, Reid decided that they probably would.

The black-suited men were getting closer. He had only a few moments left to think and find a way out of this situation. He should call someone from the team right away and ask for help. That seemed the smartest move of all, and he remembered this thought coming to his mind earlier, right before the fake agents spotted the car.

But as he reached for his cell, something caught his eye once again. One of the men seemed to pull something out of his pocket that looked very much like a gun.

Reid felt the adrenaline kick in with new force. Normally he wouldn't have gotten so scared of an armed unsub, but this was different. Now the unsub had a gun, but he didn't; that made quite a difference. Without being able to defend himself, they could easily force him to go with them. Or simply knock him out before he could say a word. _Just like Tobias Hankel did. _

Memories were invading his brain, and Reid panicked. Barely noticing what he was doing, he started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, knocking one of the attackers over with the side of his car.

He didn't know exactly where he was going, or how he was even capable of driving without crashing into anything, but when he calmed down a bit, he realized that he was in a part of town which he was unfamiliar with. Pulling the car aside, he rested his head once again on the steering wheel and tried to think his situation over.

_Strauss and the whole team probably think now that I'm trying to run away. They're right though, only that I'm not trying to run away from them, but from those unknown guys. _Reid froze. _The guy… what if I killed him? I may have not been accused of murdering Jacobson, but I will be now, and I can't prove they were attacking me!_

His biggest problem was at the moment that he had nowhere to go. There was no place where he could feel safe, and where he could find out what to do next. His home was probably guarded by the FBI, and the BAU by the unknown attackers.

_I need coffee._

Fifteen minutes later, when he returned to his car from a nearby coffee shop, he felt a bit calmer. He still didn't know what to do though; for the first time in his life, he felt unsure about going back to the BAU. Not getting there despite the fact that he had promised it to Garcia, plus running over someone probably didn't improve his situation. Just then, his cell phone rang.

"Yeah?" He answered.

"_Reid, I hope you have a very good reason why you're still not here,_" Garcia spoke without greetings, her voice half angry and half worrying.

"I do. A little after we last spoke, I arrived. But they were waiting for me."

"_Who, Reid?_" Morgan's voice was heard; Garcia had probably put him on speakerphone.

"The black-suited guys who attacked me at home!" The young agent swallowed. Were they going to believe him?

"_Then why didn't you call us sweetcheeks?_" Garcia's voice now lacked the anger; this time it was pure worry.

"I wanted to, but they saw me," Reid explained. "They came towards me, and at least one of them had a gun. I drove away. I… I even knocked one of them over! I've probably injured him!"

"_Okay, man, listen, here's what will happen. You come here right away, and I'll come down for you and make sure no bloody black-suited guy touches you or I'll kick them in the ass like they've never been kicked before!_" Morgan's frustrated voice made Reid smile for a second, but he had already decided himself.

"No."

"_What?_"

"Garcia, please answer the next question honestly. Am I accused of something, or is there any chance I'll get locked up even for a small amount of time?"

"_Reid why do you think…_"

"Just answer me, please!" He nearly shouted nervously.

"_Well… Strauss is mad at you of course, but not getting here in time is not a very big deal, you may only get a warning for that. On the other hand… Jacobson's death is still being investigated, just like the attack at your apartment. It turned out that some neighbor saw you entering and leaving Jacobson's house._"

Reid was holding his breath while he was listening to Garcia; he felt his heartbeat quicken again.

"_However, it still isn't enough to bring a charge against you, but putting it together with the attempt to flee… it may raise the chance that you'll be brought to court. Of course they will find out soon that you're not guilty, but until then… I fear you could be locked up for a couple of days._"

Breathing out the long-held breath, Reid nodded to himself. This made some things clearer. _I won't go to prison, if it's up to me._

"Thanks, Garcia." He said softly.

"_Reid, where are you? You should…_"

But Reid shook his head, smiling. "Do you think I don't know you're tracking my phone signal as we speak? I'm sorry guys, I can't go back. I have to find who's after me."

"_Reid, don't be stupid,_" Morgan was raging. "_You need to bring your ass up here and let us help you! How could you even find those guys again?_"

"Well, they've found me twice already; I hope they'll be just as clever next time."

"_Man, don't joke around, just…_"

"I'm sorry," the young agent cut him off. "I'll call you as soon as I find something."

"_Reid!_" Morgan and Garcia shouted in unison, but they were too late. The phone was already flying, having been thrown out of Reid's car window, only to land behind some trash cans with a big crash.

* * *

"Dammit!" Morgan punched the wall in anger at Reid's stubbornness. "I thought he was a genius; he doesn't even know what's good for him!"

"It's about that stupid letter," Garcia pointed out softly.

"What letter?"

"He's received a threatening message. Poor thing, he was so worried, I've seen it…"

"And what did you tell him?"

"Calm down Derek, nothing frightening! I told him that everybody receives some from time to time… and that he shouldn't be worried. But the letter said something about prisons, and now he's freaked out that he'll die if he's sent to one!"

"Man, let me get my hands on that sick son of a bitch who sent that…!"

"Do you think he's losing it?" Garcia asked, now whispering, not looking away from her monitors.

"What?"

"Reid… don't you find he's acting a bit… paranoid?"

Morgan shook his head in disbelief, wanting to say something that would prove she was wrong but he couldn't come up with anything. Come on, who would take a letter like that seriously? And then those mysterious attackers… there _should _be some evidence, some sign that they were really there! _If _they were really there… And then again they appeared at the entrance of the building… That's impossible… cleaning up Reid's apartment, treat their wounds and arrive before Reid… no one could be that fast.

"Do you think… do you think that he may be…?" Morgan didn't dare to say it out. Hell, he even hated himself for even thinking about this possibility. But they had to think about it! Reid was almost past the typical age of onset, but still he was at risk of developing his mother's illness.

"I don't know," Garcia shook his head, still whispering. "Maybe he's just exhausted. All of us have been under a lot of stress lately… I mean, the last case was more than depressing…"

"Yeah, of course," Morgan repeated. "Maybe he's just too tired."

After a couple of silent seconds, he continued. "Did you manage to track his cell signal?"

"Yeah," Garcia answered, with guilt in her voice. "26 Amber Street."

"Though I don't really think he'll still be there when we arrive," he murmured under his breath as he walked out.

* * *

Reid noticed that his hands were still shaking when he was a good ten miles away from the spot where he'd thrown away his cell.

He was on his own now, he knew that very well. And the worst of it was that he himself had chosen it. But he could imagine what the team would think about him now! Since there was no evidence that he was attacked in his apartment, everyone would think that he had just dreamt it or hallucinated or something. Reid knew very well what consequences it would lead to if they thought he was hallucinating. It would lead to two things, and none of them looked good for him.

The better option was that they would think he had schizophrenia, and try to lock him away in some hospital where they would visit him just as often as he did his mother. The other option was that he was probably using drugs again, Dilaudid or even something stronger. _No! One simple blood test would prove that I'm clean! _But would anyone pay attention to it when drugs would perfectly explain the hallucinations, the attempt to run away and even senseless actions like killing a man?

But he had _not _been hallucinating. Those hits and punches were real. That big purple bruise on his arm was so damn real!

Doubts and fears were warring with another in him as he finally stopped the inner debate; finally reaching a decision, he got out of his car and headed for a nearby banking machine to get some cash. Of course Garcia could find him if he used his credit card; so now that he had some cash, he could disappear for a while again.

After driving another ten miles away from the banking machine, he wearily stopped his car in front of a friendly-looking Internet-Café. He bought another coffee and a big sandwich and sat down on one of the empty chairs. The sandwich was delicious; he felt like he hadn't eaten for a week.

While enjoying his meal, he kept glancing suspiciously out of the window, searching for any familiar FBI cars, but so far there were none. So they'd really lost track of him… he could escape them if he wanted to… The thought made him content and proud for a moment but then he remembered why he'd been forced to run.

Where the hell should he start searching for his mysterious attacker? Should he go somewhere he'd be expected to be? No way, the FBI would probably be waiting for him to turn up at these places. And he didn't want to meet the black-suited guys but their boss. Reid had to admit that there was very little chance he'd find him on his own. Maybe he'd just wait for P.D. to show up again…

A sudden idea made Reid get up and walk to one of the computers. He quickly checked his e-mail box and felt his heart rate quicken again as he saw the letter he was waiting for. It had come from an unknown sender, and said:

_Agent Reid,_

_You have really surprised me; I wouldn't have thought you'd choose this road._

_However, I don't want to play games with you. If you'd like to meet me, I'll be waiting for you tomorrow at 10 in the morning at the old tourist house, west of town. There we can arrange our little business._

_P.D._

_P.S. Don't bring your team if you don't want them to get hurt, because my people will be there too._

_

* * *

_**So what do you think? I'm eager to hear (see) your reaction!:)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello everyone, the site had some issues with uploading stuff so I was only able to post this chapter now. Also I want to apologize to all the people who find it confusing to jump between past and present events; in this chap I had to do it because I'm planning to catch up with the present soon:) Thank you again for the nice and motivating reviews, I really appreciate them! REIDFANATIC did the beta-reading so half of my credits go to her! Now have fun:)**

Chapter Nine

**Present**

Reid had been awakened by the fact that he was freezing. Sleepily and weakly he groped around, searching for the blanket to pull back over himself, but for some annoying reason, he couldn't find it. He had no other choice but to force himself fully awake.

He felt better than he had the day before as he sat up in the bed. Andrew had come back a couple hours ago and given him the medicine. Now his side wasn't hurting so badly and even his fever seemed to have dropped a few degrees. But his bed and the new shirt Jessica had given to him were still soaked with sweat; that was probably the reason he felt cold after he kicked the blanket off in his sleep.

Sighing, he started to get up. The sleepiness had gone and he felt like he needed to walk, to breathe some fresh air. Jessica and Andrew were nowhere to be seen; Reid curiously started looking around the house. It appeared to be afternoon; sunrays were shining through the windows and a deep, peaceful silence reigned throughout the home. Reid couldn't remember if he'd ever heard such a deep silence having spent almost his whole life in big cities.

The kitchen was neat; a pot of something delicious had been left steaming on the stove. Reid moved further, into the living room which was relatively small but very cozy. Two big leather armchairs and a sofa filled the room, with barely enough room left for the coffee table and a homey fireplace in the corner. On the other side of the living room was a door leading out into the garden, and Reid could see Jessica's back through it; the girl seemed to be quite busy with something.

The young agent stepped out and took a look around. The ground was freezing cold to his bare feet but he took no notice. The strangest thing about this garden was that it had no fence. Neat, green grass covered a large section of earth surrounding the house and it was gradually turning into untidy weeds at the far ends. The garden even had a small flowerbed; Jessica was working with it at the moment.

"Hi," Reid addressed her shyly.

The girl turned back, eyes wide in surprise. "Spencer!" A moment later she was on her feet, hurrying over to Reid and pushing him forcefully back into the house, nearly knocking him over in the process. "You shouldn't come out just like that, barefoot and everything!" She chided him as if he was a child. "It's cold outside, some 40 degrees or so!"

"Okay, I'm sorry," Reid apologized as he regained his balance. "I'm feeling better; I just wanted some fresh air…"

"Sure, you can, as soon as you've dressed up warmly," she nodded with a strict expression. "I could give you some of Andy's clothes but I assume you insist on your own…"

"Yes please, if possible," the young agent hurried to agree. He was counting on leaving soon anyway; he couldn't expect the siblings to help him more and besides, his team could show up in any moment, and he still hadn't decided what his next step would be.

* * *

**Past**

Reid had an extremely hard night. He'd never thought that sleeping on the backseat of his car would be this uncomfortable. He felt like he'd woken up in every ten minutes to change position or glance out of the window to see if he'd been found, but so far he hadn't.

Reid's mind had been working hard since the moment he'd received the second e-mail. There was no question as to whether he would attend that meeting or not; he wanted, he _needed _to face the man who had attacked him before he could unite with his team and, according to the first message, wanted him dead, with no clue as to who he was or what he wanted from him. The question was, should he tell the team about the meeting or not? He had no idea what was waiting for him at the old tourist house; maybe just a man, maybe the black-suited guys with the intention of abducting him again, maybe a whole damn army of gunmen or even worse.

He wasn't afraid for his team, that they might be hurt; he knew they were well-trained, experienced agents who had dealt with a lot of hard-ass criminals before. He was actually worried about himself. What if the team didn't believe him? What if they thought that he was losing it, seeing things and believing in things that weren't real? If he called them to cover him would they arrest him instead of his assailant before he could even show up?

_But I can't do this alone, _he said to himself. _I'm just a kid. I don't even have a gun. Since when don't I trust them anyway? We're like a family, and I know everyone of them thinks exactly the same. If I can't trust them, I can trust no one in the world._

Reid awoke the next morning after finally falling asleep in the midst of his inner storm, glanced at his watch and shot up immediately; it was 8:50, almost time to start searching for the meeting place. Reid ran his fingers through his messy hair, thinking; the next moment he climbed over to the driver seat, ready for action.

* * *

It was exactly 9:02 a.m. when Garcia's phone rang. The number was unknown to her.

"Hello?"

"_Hey Garcia, this is Reid." _She heard the familiar voice that was equally full of confidence and anxiety.

"Reid, honey, where have you been? I've been so worried! And Morgan… he's freaking out!"

"_I'm really sorry, Garcia. But please call the others and put me on speakerphone. I have news."_

As soon as everyone was gathered around her, Reid went on. _"I've received a second e-mail. From the same sender, P.D."_

"Second e-mail?" Rossi murmured. "I haven't even heard of the first one."

"_I'm sorry; I didn't tell all of you about it. I thought it wasn't a big deal. The first one didn't say much, only that I'd be dead if I ever went to prison."_

"Come on man, you don't believe this bullshit?" Morgan asked, still angry.

Reid ignored his question. _"Now the second one told me that he wants to meet me this morning, at ten in some tourist house west of Quantico."_

"I think I know that house," Prentiss interrupted. "I've been there before. You just have to follow the tourist path, you can't miss it. It was a popular wandering spot before the new look-out tower was built."

"Who did you say the sender was?" JJ asked suddenly.

"_P.D. Just these two letters, his initials I presume."_

"P.D…" Hotch spoke up. "Like Phillip Dowd?"

Reid frowned at the other end of the line. The others stared at Hotch confusedly, except for Rossi and Prentiss to whom the name didn't seem to ring any bells.

"_He's dead." _Reid said eventually. _"It can't be him."_

"I know," Hotch replied dryly. "Reid, what do you suggest we do?"

"It's not a question!" Morgan said in disbelief, looking surprised over the fact that his boss asked for his subordinate's opinion. "Kid, you stay right there where you are, we'll go there and get that bastard…!"

But the team leader motioned him to be quiet. "Let him speak."

"_It's not that simple," _the young agent continued, _"he also wrote that I shouldn't even think about calling you, because he has his men with him. They're probably armed. But I wouldn't have called you if I had thought that I could handle it on my own. Just let me talk to him, okay? You can't be seen by him or his men until it's safe. Then, we'll arrest him."_

"But what about the others?" JJ asked in a worried voice. "His men will probably be hidden too. How do we catch them?"

"If we have the leader he won't be able to give orders. Without orders, they won't know what to do, or at least they'll be a lot less confident," Rossi answered her question.

"_Let's hope so," _Reid said. _"See you in an hour then."_

"Wait…!" Morgan shouted but it was too late: the line went dead. "Reid, dammit, once I get you…"

"Save it Morgan, we don't have time," Hotch said. "As Reid said, he's in need of our help. Let's go."

* * *

As the concrete road ended, Reid stopped his car. The road continued in a path among the trees of the forest; too narrow to go further with a vehicle. He had no choice but to continue on foot.

He left his bag in the car; there was nothing in it he could use against a criminal or whoever this person was that wanted to meet him. It didn't even cross his mind that he wouldn't get back here; either he'd be arrested or not, his car would be taken care of.

The old tourist house was a good twenty minutes walk from the road. Though it was a bit cold, Reid enjoyed walking in the forest. It was so silent and peaceful everywhere, only the birds were singing, and the air was fresh and emanating all the scents of nature.

Suddenly, without warning, he found himself on the edge of a small clearing, facing an old wooden house that stood just as silent and peaceful in the early sunlight, as the forest itself. Reid stopped short in his tracks, feeling his heart start beating faster. He stood there without making a sound, turning his head around and listening for any sign of someone lurking around, but there wasn't any. No footsteps, no figures behind the trees. It was as if he was the only human being in the whole county.

He looked nervously at his watch. It was exactly ten o'clock. His mysterious assailant appeared to be late; and if Hotch and the team was hiding somewhere nearby, they were doing it perfectly as Reid didn't see any sign of them either.

He waited another minute then set off slowly towards the house. Well it was rather just a hut: three walls and a roof made of wooden boards, with a wooden picnic table and benches. It was only able to serve as a shelter a family could sit in and eat their sandwiches while waiting for the rain to stop.

Reid went inside and took a look around. His eyes were unconsciously scanning the hut for any clue, any message the mysterious man could have left for him after possibly deciding that he wouldn't wait for the young agent. But there wasn't anything. No paper tag, no words scratched into the walls; the table and the benches were covered in thick dust as a sign of having not seen anybody in a very long time.

_Okay, I'm here. Now where are you?_

Walking around the table, Reid stepped outside and looked around again, still nothing. Could it be that the guy had actually pulled a prank on him and had never even intended to meet him? Was it only a means of making his team think that he was losing it? It seemed a perfect plan. They would arrive here, find him standing alone, looking for some non-existent enemy.

He was debating about what he'd say to explain it all to the team when he suddenly heard a crack from behind the hut. _This is it, now I'm hearing things too. _He closed his eyes for a moment only to open them again to the strange feeling of not being alone.

Heart beating wildly in his throat, he sneaked to the corner of the hut. His hand was unconsciously searching for his gun on his belt, but then he realized he didn't have it with him and whatever he was going to meet in a moment, he'd have to face unarmed.

So he took a deep breath and with sudden determination he stepped around the corner.

The sight that met his eyes took him by surprise. He wasn't quite expecting to find a young girl standing there, leaning against the wooden wall, looking at him a bit frightened as if his sudden movement may have scared her.

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, unable to find the words, but then the girl who didn't seem much older than he, spoke.

"Hello, Agent Reid," she said with a velvet tone. The scared expression had already disappeared from her face and was replaced by a wide, content smile. "I've been waiting for so long to meet you."

* * *

**Any guesses?:)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A.N.: Hi everyone, I decided to surprise you with a quick update:) To be honest I quite enjoyed writing this so it went easier than usually... It became also longer than the previous chapters. It continues right from where we left off in the prev. chapter. Thank you again for the nice reviews, I just can't say how happy they make me. Beta-reading done by the kind REIDFANATIC. Here you go!**

Chapter Ten

"Hello, Agent Reid," the girl said with a content smile. "I've been waiting for so long to meet you."

The young agent looked at her confusedly. "Excuse me… do I know you?"

The girl was one head shorter than him, long brown hair framed her beautiful face. She looked completely unfamiliar to Reid.

"Not yet," she winked and took a step towards Reid who instinctively pulled backwards a bit. "But you sure did know my brother."

"Um… and who is he?"

The girl smiled again, with a sweetness that almost made Reid nauseous. "Let me introduce myself then, if you're so curious… My name is Phoebe Dowd."

Reid felt his blood run cold and unconsciously backed away in fright. _Dowd… _she must be Phillip Dowd's sister, the unsub that he had killed about three years ago!

Phoebe kept walking after him lazily, that evil smile never disappearing from her face. "We remember now, do we?"

Reid gulped and cautiously glanced around. Where the hell was the team? They should have arrived minutes ago. His heart was racing. Every passing second he spent with this woman who obviously wanted revenge on him decreased the chance that he would get out of this situation alive, let alone unharmed.

"What are you looking for?" She asked in a teasing voice. "Your team? Even after I requested not to call them?"

The young agent didn't know what to answer. He was out of words, and this was something that happened only a few times in his life. He had no idea what explanation he could give to her.

But Phoebe just shrugged. "Doesn't matter though. I thought you would be a coward enough to call for their help anyways. Now my men are probably keeping them busy. But don't worry, I don't want to hurt you."

"Look," Reid finally found his voice and tried to talk her out of whatever she was planning to do, lifting his hands in sign of peace. "I didn't mean to kill your brother. He was a criminal, and he was threatening to kill us and a dozen other innocent people."

"So you thought you had a right to judge him?" Phoebe asked a little louder, she was obviously getting pissed. "He was supposed to be taken to court!"

"I know," Reid's voice broke. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to end his life, you have to believe me! I just… I just wanted to shoot his leg, so that he would collapse and we could disarm him!"

"But you didn't!" Phoebe spat. "How did you even dare to take a gun in your hands when you were completely incapable of aiming correctly?"

Reid tore away his gaze from hers and looked at the ground, guilt flooding him with full force. Somehow he didn't expect it to come back after so much time. After the incident, he'd spent many nights up, unable to sleep but he couldn't define what exactly he was feeling then. It had passed away then, but now it was coming back at him. Now he felt what he should have felt three years ago. Now he felt pure guilt, and he also felt that Phoebe's accusations were righteous.

"It was the first time I'd killed somebody," he whispered.

"But not the last, huh?" The girl replied, suddenly appearing to regain her calm. "You cops, you're worse than criminals. You kill people just like them, but you get away with it with the simple phrase of 'self-defense'. You don't even bother to admit you have sinned!"

"I know I have sinned." Reid confessed. Behind the huge amount of guilt he felt there was still an instinct to survive. He said what he thought the girl wanted to hear. "I… I didn't know he had a sister. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Don't act like not having a family made someone deserve death more!"

"No one deserves death," Reid admitted.

"Exactly." Phoebe stepped even closer to him. "I know Phillip was a criminal. He took lives too. He deserved punishment. You just have no idea how prison can change people! I believed that Phillip would have become a good man there. Even if he had to spend the rest of his life behind the bars. Living in a prison is still better than not living at all, don't you think Agent Reid?"

Reid tried to pull away again, but his back suddenly collided with a tree. "I do. Life is the most precious thing someone can have. I just can't say how sorry I am."

"You're right. You can't," Phoebe whispered. "Words can never fix anything that deeds have screwed up." She shook her head sadly. "But I see you're _truly _sorry. Maybe that could mean something."

Reid finally let the long-held tears build up in his eyes. Maybe it will help to let Phoebe see the greatness of his remorse.

"Ssh, is it really so bad?" She asked now in quite a tender voice. She stepped even closer and reached a hand up to Reid's face, gently stroking his cheek.

"What do you want from me?" The young agent asked softly.

Phoebe looked at him sympathetically, as if she no longer wanted to take revenge on him. "I'll tell you a secret, okay? First I thought I would avenge Phillip the old way, tit for tat. Your mother for my brother. Then you would feel just the same as I felt after his death. You have no siblings, Agent Reid, you don't know what it's like. Phillip was only a year older than me, but he started school later, so we were in the same class. We were like twins."

She waited for her words to take effect on her victim, then continued. "But then I changed my mind. Your mother did nothing wrong against me. If I killed her, I wouldn't be any better than you. So I decided to focus on you. I wanted to meet you. To see how you'd react if I told you my story. And I did the right thing… do you know why?

Reid shook his head silently.

"Because you're a lot more handsome in real than on the photos."

Grinning, she stopped stroking his cheek, stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on Reid's lips.

The young agent had been so confused by the action that he didn't resist. He didn't dare either. But what was this for anyways? What did this desperate woman want, making love to a man who had killed her brother?

After finishing, Phoebe pulled away from him, taking four or five steps backwards. Reid didn't like this movement, and after a second he even realized why, as the girl suddenly pulled a gun out of nowhere.

"What…? You said you don't want to hurt me!"

Phoebe laughed out loud. "Oh, Agent Reid, you're so sweet! You must be so smart, with these dozen PhDs and everything, but you're so naïve! A single kiss from a girl can knock you this much off your feet? So I lied, and now what? Killing you was my most basic goal, but not before I see you suffer from being separated from your team and be broken by the guilt of your sin!"

She was aiming the gun right at Reid's chest. "You know, by the way, it'll be my first time to kill a man, but I don't think it'll be hard. I'm a tough girl and I have the guts to do it. This is why we would never have made it; weak men are not my case."

"Wait!" Reid called out, hoping to win some time by talking. "First time to kill, huh? What about Douglas Jacobson?"

Phoebe giggled. "Oh come on, it wasn't me. I'm just pulling the strings; my men did it for me. I just wanted you to be suspected, or for you think that your team suspects you. And then you'd turn your back to them and become all alone. Become a fugitive."

"Believe me, if you kill somebody, there's no turning back from there!" Reid continued desperately, his eyes unable to take leave of the gun still pointed at him. "You'll be haunted for the rest of your life, just like I am by your brother. It's something that can't be repaired! It's a burden you can't get rid of!"

"Only the difference between you and me is that I'll kill for justice." Phoebe looked determined. "If you kill someone who doesn't deserve it, you'll be haunted. But I have every right to kill you, right here and now."

She lifted her gun again and slowly cocked it. "And speaking about my brother… say hi to him in my name, Agent Reid!"

A gunshot came, a bit too soon. Reid closed his eyes in fright but the next moment he opened them again, only to discover that he was still living and wasn't even injured. Phoebe couldn't have missed from a five feet distance, but then who was shot?

The girl in front of him was still standing on her feet, unharmed, so it wasn't even the team getting her down as Reid secretly hoped. But he clearly sensed that they were no longer alone in the forest. Running footsteps were heard from all around them, and Phoebe uncertainly turned her head around, looking for the source of the noise.

This brief moment of disturbance was all Reid needed. With a sudden movement he pushed himself away from the tree and launched himself into the forest, breaking into a run. He heard the girl's indignant gasp behind his back, then another set of gunshots echoing through the morning peace of the woods. He didn't look back, just ran like he never did in his life.

* * *

"Everyone on their place?" Hotch asked softly in his speaker.

"Yes." Prentiss was the first to answer.

"Me too," Rossi murmured.

"I can see Reid," Morgan answered too. "Guys, you won't believe this. He's with a girl."

"You're kidding?" Prentiss asked, smiling. "Did he order us here to witness his first date?"

Morgan shook his head too, smiling. "I don't know."

The BAU team had arrived a couple of minutes late. Had a small van not crashed into one of the SUVs on purpose, they would have probably gotten to the meeting place in time. The van was apparently waiting for them at the spot where the concrete road turned into a narrow footpath; and had no intention of stopping as it sped towards the FBI cars. Fortunately no one had been hurt in the crash, not even the driver of the van, what is more, he jumped out right after the accident and ran away, disappearing in the forest within seconds, while the agents were busy gathering themselves. A few minutes later, they were already sneaking in the forest towards their observation posts.

"Oh my God," Morgan whispered, grinning.

"What is it?" Hotch asked nervously.

"They're _kissing!_"

"Who is this girl anyways?" Rossi asked. "Is she the unsub who sent those messages to Reid?"

"I'd be happy to go up to them and find out," Morgan grinned, "but I don't want to spoil the moment."

"Guys, I need backup," Prentiss suddenly whispered into her speaker. "Two or three are approaching."

"Morgan, go help her," Hotch ordered, "you're nearest. We'll take care of Reid."

Swearing mentally, Morgan turned his head just in time not to see Phoebe pull out her gun. He carefully started hurrying in Prentiss' direction.

Several moments later, a gunshot rang out, disturbing the peaceful silence of the forest.

"Shit!" Morgan quickened his steps, hoping that Prentiss was all right. He turned his head around, trying to locate the shooter, and that was when he saw someone running away among the trees. Someone who mostly resembled Reid…

He turned his head back and continued his way towards Prentiss.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he squatted next to her behind a particularly large bush.

"Yes," Prentiss nodded. "They didn't fire at me. They fired in the exact opposite direction. I don't understand…"

"Where are they?"

Prentiss pointed somewhere straight through the leaves of the bush. "They're there. Two of them at least."

Morgan could see the dark figures; they were at quite a distance. He didn't know if they could approach them without becoming exposed.

Suddenly, Hotch and Rossi showed up next to them.

"Hey what about Reid?" Morgan demanded them. "I thought you'd keep an eye…"

"He ran away." Hotch stated simply. "The girl had a gun. We chased them for a while but then she changed direction and we lost both of their tracks."

"We can't lose 'em," Morgan murmured, nodding towards the dark figures with his head.

With weapons held at the ready, the four FBI agents advanced forward in the morning forest.

* * *

Reid felt like his lungs were about to be ripped out. He panted heavily but he didn't dare to stop, although he felt that Phoebe was no longer at his heels. But her men were probably searching the woods after him, and hiding from a dozen people was definitely more difficult than hiding from one.

This part of the forest was completely unknown to him. Where should he go to find the way back to his car? He realized that in his hurry he must have started running in the wrong direction. He was lost.

_No, calm down, you can find the way._

Decreasing his pace, he tried to take deeper breaths. He'll have to find the path back to the tourist house, and then he'd know where to go.

If there wasn't someone waiting for him there.

But who would be? The gunshots indicated that his team had probably arrived and found Phoebe's black-suited men. _No one will wait for me. _With that he turned to the left and started running again, in search of the tourist house.

Suddenly, for a brief glimpse he saw Morgan among the trees, about a good twenty yards behind him. He was dangerously close and approaching.

So the main target of the team was still him!

Was it really more important to catch him first while a dozen other armed guys were running loose in the forest?

_It could be a coincidence…_ Then why could he clearly see the determination in Morgan's eyes as he came closer, definitely in his direction? Did they not believe him, even after they had probably seen Phoebe? Realizing his colleagues' betrayal felt a lot more painful than any wounds he'd gotten in his life.

Just then, he suddenly felt _real _pain. Something hit his side, so sharply that he fell to the ground and his mouth got full of dirt. His hand instinctively flew to his side and he could feel warm blood flowing down to his stomach.

_Has Morgan just shot me?_

He heard water babbling somewhere close. A few yards away from him. Maybe he could escape in the river… then they wouldn't be able to follow his footprints.

The water was freezing cold but the current was strong; it picked him up immediately. Reid concentrated hard on not losing consciousness; he didn't want to end up being drowned. He didn't know how much time had passed. The next thing he realized was that he was struggling to climb out to the riverbank. Finally he managed to pull every part of his body out of the water, and that was the last thing he remembered before passing out from exhaustion and blood loss.

* * *

**Full circle! Do you like it? Female unsubs RULE:D**


	11. Chapter 11

**A.N.: Hello everyone! I'm sorry, I know I haven't updated in a very long time... but this two schoolweeks were quite rough. I have to study a lot because we write a test every Thursday and Friday. However I gathered some time to write this... hope you'll enjoy it! Thanks for the nice feedbacks of the previous chapter!:) Beta-read by REIDFANATIC.**

Chapter Eleven

"Nice vehicle," Reid complimented politely as he looked the huge motorbike up and down with a modest interest.

He had offered a couple of minutes earlier to help Jessica out with something in return for her kindness, but she told him she was in no need of anything. She'd then sent him out in the garage to see if Andrew could use an extra hand with cleaning his bike.

Andy looked up to him. "Hi Spencer, what's up? Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thanks, a lot better," Reid said, though it wasn't all true; he was still standing a bit unsteadily on his feet. "Nice vehicle," he repeated.

"Yeah, that's my baby," Andrew grinned and patted the seat. "I'm glad you like her. As you can tell I'm a big fan of these. You need some help with something?"

Reid smiled and took an uncertain step towards him. "Actually, I wanted to ask if there was something _I_ could do to help _you._"

Andrew's grin grew even wider. "Jessica sent you, huh?" He asked, but before Reid could open his mouth to explain, he went on. "Never mind, how much do you know about motorbikes?"

The young agent flushed. "I… prefer the comfort of cars."

"I had a feeling you do…" Andrew murmured, still smiling. "Hey, if you really want to help, grab a cloth and clean the handlebars and the dashboards. She's started getting a bit dusty…"

Reid did as he was told. For a couple minutes they worked in silence, and then Andrew spoke again.

"You wanna try it out?"

"What… try out what?" Reid stuttered, although deep inside he already knew what the other man meant.

Andy motioned towards the bike with his chin, "Riding."

The young agent flushed again and tried to refuse politely. "Um… I don't know… I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Why not?" Andrew asked. "Oh I know, you're afraid. Well don't be afraid, kid, I can help you, and you don't have to start with mine, Jessica's is way smaller…"

He pointed towards the end of the garage and Reid now noticed the other motorcycle. It looked a lot more modest, almost humble compared to the big one.

"Jessica has a bike too?" Reid's mouth fell open in surprise. He couldn't imagine that fragile girl riding such a tough vehicle.

"Yes, I got her one from this friend of mine, two years ago. She always says that when she turns 18, she'll get on it and ride out of the whole damn state. But I don't think she's going to do it really. She loves mom and dad too much."

The young agent nodded and kept staring at the smaller bike, unsure what to say.

"Come on, just one try," Andy pushed on. "Once you've tried it, you won't want to get off her!"

Reid was just about to open his mouth and utter another excuse, but right at that moment, knocking was heard on the front door, so loud that they could even hear it in the garage.

"Coming!" Jessica shouted.

Reid felt the blood run cold in his veins. "That must be my team, they're looking for me," he whispered.

Andrew stopped cleaning the bike, and raised an eyebrow in a suspicious expression. "What's wrong with that?"

"Please," Reid begged, "they can't find me here!"

The blond man stood up and took a slow step towards the terrified agent, who instinctively backed away. "Why not? I thought they were your co-workers…"

"They are," Reid hurried to confirm it, "but we had a… misunderstanding, sort of. I won't have a chance to clear myself if they get me now! Please!"

Andrew was looking at him for another long moment, then turned his back on him, walked to the garage door and shut it.

"Well kid, I don't know if Jessica will tell them you're here, but if not, you're gonna tell me _everything,_ understand?"

Reid nodded gratefully. It was still better after all, than facing Hotch and the others.

"All right then," Andrew's face was smooth again. "The garage has no other door. If they come around the house, they'll find it closed and we're not here, fine?"

* * *

Jessica regretted opening the door as soon as her gaze fell on the big FBI badge held out in front of her face. She had forgotten her promise to pretend not to be at home, and it was too late now. The serious-looking, black-haired man was looking at her without the slightest interest.

"Good morning, my name is Special Agent Aaron Hotchner from the FBI, are your parents home?"

Jessica swallowed, and didn't take a single step away from the door, although she knew that she'd have to let them in eventually. "Um, no… they're on a business trip right now."

"Are you alone?" A black-haired woman asked from behind Agent Hotchner.

"Yes," the girl answered without thinking, almost too quickly. Andrew and Spencer could hide in the garage. Maybe, if the agents didn't go around, they wouldn't be found…

"We're looking for our teammate," Hotch explained and gave a photo to Jessica. "He has disappeared from not far from here. He might have been hurt. Have you seen him?"

Jessica studied the picture curiously. It showed a lot livelier Reid, with pink cheeks and smiling widely; he barely resembled his current pale-faced and sunken-eyed self.

"Yes," she answered finally, after a couple moments of silence.

Agent Hotchner exchanged a look with the black-haired woman. "Is he here?" He asked almost greedily.

Jessica took another long moment before answering: "No."

She could feel the disappointment of the agents. Fortunately they didn't notice that she was lying, although she didn't think she was so good at it; but they were quite busy with absorbing the bad news.

"We'll have to look around in the house anyway, if you don't mind," Agent Hotchner said.

"Sure," Jessica nodded and opened the door wider. Now that she was over the first lie, the following ones didn't seem so hard.

"Where did you see him?" A dark-skinned agent asked her as the team walked into the living room. "Was he here?"

The girl nodded, smiling innocently. "He was. I found him at the riverbank two days ago. He was hurt, gunshot wound to the side. But don't worry," she hurried to say as she saw the horror in the dark-skinned man's eyes, "he's fine now. I took the bullet out of him. I'm preparing to become a doctor!" She added, a bit proudly. It was a lot easier to lie when you put this many true statements between the false ones.

"That's great," the dark-skinned agent sighed. "Do you know where he is now?"

"I don't know, sorry," she said, looking the man straight in the eye. "He went into town with Andrew a couple of hours ago. I don't think he'll come back, he took all his stuff with him too…"

The agent looked even more disappointed. Jessica almost felt sorry for him.

"Did he say where he was going to go?"

"Nope," the girl shook her head. "Only that he had work to do."

The other agents were circling in the house in hope of finding any sign, any clue that could lead to the whereabouts of their youngest. Agent Hotchner even took a walk in the garden and around the house, but he also came back empty-handed.

"Well, thanks for your help, um…"

"Jessica," she helped him out.

"Jessica," Agent Hotchner said. "If you see him again or find out anything about where he could possibly be, give us a call."

"I'd be pleased, but we don't have a phone at the moment," she explained. "Well, we have, but stupid Andy forgot to pay some bills and now we can't call anyone. I'm sorry."

Hotchner's eyes went narrow, but then he said: "Fine, then, we'll drop by later, if you don't mind."

"Anytime," Jessica smiled innocently at him.

* * *

"Fine, kid, they're gone," Andrew spoke up, hearing the front door closing behind the departing agents. "Now, I want to hear everything."

"It's not a long story," Reid tried to explain it quickly, his eyes glancing nervously at the still closed garage door. "Someone's after me, a woman named Phoebe, whose brother I killed years ago, because he was a serial killer and threatened to kill innocent people in a hospital."

Andrew looked at him confusedly.

"Now she has committed a crime in my name. She killed that old man I was talking about earlier and tried to make it look like I did it! She wants revenge, and I can't go to prison because she has friends there who will finish her job! At least it was what she told me…"

"Spencer!"

Both men turned their heads towards the garage door that was opening in that exact moment, revealing Jessica's head peering inside.

"Spencer, I just lied to your colleagues, did I do the right thing?" She asked with a soft and shy voice; she obviously wasn't sure if she did."

"Um, for me, yes," Reid answered after a couple moments of thinking. "I told you not to tell them that I'm here, and I'm an FBI agent as well, so you did just fine. I'll talk to them later, but before that, I have to arrange some things."

"They looked so worried about you," Jessica admitted. "There was a dark skinned one, he looked so sad. I think they were worried about your injury."

"It's okay," Reid smiled. "I was expecting them to be. I'm planning to leave today; I'll call them back in town and tell them that I'm okay."

The girl's eyes grew wide. "You're leaving already? You haven't fully healed yet, and you could tear up your wound again…"

"I'll be careful," Reid smiled. "But it's Monday tomorrow, I assume you have school and work and everything… and besides, you've already done a lot for me."

"Hey, what about that motor ride?" Andrew interjected. "Before you go, you _have to _try out one of them!"

Reid was about to make some excuses again, but Jessica's face lit up. "He's going for a ride? Awesome! I want to see it, it'll be fun!"

"Cool down, I don't even know how to!" The young agent protested, but the girl was getting more and more enthusiastic.

"You've never ridden a motorbike before? No problem, I'll show you how to use it. You know what? I can even lend you it, just until you get your car back. I barely have the chance to use it anyway; I would so like to go to school with a motorbike, it would be totally cool and all, but mom and dad don't allow me… But don't worry; we can try it out around the house!

She pulled the vehicle out of the corner and pushed it out onto a dirt road next to the garden. Reid followed her quite uncertainly; Andrew came out after them and watched the scene with a wide grin.

"Come on, I'll ride with you first. Sit behind me and get a hold on my waist… right."

Reid complied hesitantly, not really believing that he was actually doing this. What would Morgan say if he saw him? He would probably be rolling on the floor laughing. The young agent could see each of his teammates' faces at sight of their 'genius' sitting on a motorcycle behind a girl. He couldn't help but smile as he imagined their expressions.

"Wait, I'll bring you the helmets," Andy said, but Jessica was already giving the ignition.

"I won't go so fast, I don't want him to faint," she teased.

A moment later they were off. Reid found himself holding the girl's waist strongly, as if his life depended on it, and he kept watching the road over Jessica's shoulder. She laughed as she felt his terror.

"I was just as scared when Andy took me for the first round," she explained, "but after the third, he could barely get me off!"

However, Jessica kept her promise and didn't go overly fast, which Reid was really grateful for. He could feel the wind blowing into his face, and as they passed the trees one after the other, he started to have a feeling that he was getting more and more away from the city, the people and the tidal wave of his problems; and he was getting freer and freer.

It was a good feeling, even if it was temporary.

* * *

**I decided not to bug you with another cliffhanger, I'm so thankful for your patience:)**

**Btw what do you think about this idea? Reid and a motorbike? Quite crazy pairing, isn't it?:D  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**A.N.: I can't say how sorry I am for keeping you waiting for so long... I was very busy at the university but now it's the Eastern Break so I have a little more time to write:) Thank you so much for your patience.... I can't promise anything but I'm trying to update as soon as possible! Lots of thanks go out to REIDFANATIC who betaed and helped with the storyline; and to ReadingYourThoughts who nudged me to keep writing:))**

Chapter Twelve

Reid arrived back in Quantico late in the afternoon. Jessica had made him stay for lunch, after trying to teach the basics of riding a motorbike to the reluctant agent; she'd then guided him to the road and before they'd parted, she'd made him promise to look after himself and even visit her sometimes, if he had time. Reid didn't want to abuse her kindness; he just couldn't thank her enough for helping him and treating his injury. He'd had to leave anyway; he still had a vengeful woman to avoid and track down at the same time.

When Jessica finally said her last goodbyes and set off back home, Reid felt loneliness descend heavily on his shoulders. He was on his own, again; no one to turn to for help, no home to go, not even a car to sleep in. Hell, he'd even left his wallet in the car with his bag. He hadn't thought then that he would be in particular need of money after his encounter with Phoebe. Now he was standing on the edge of a road, with his arm straightened and thumb upwards, requesting a ride. It was strange; he had never hitchhiked before and would never have thought that he'll be doing it someday.

After ten cars or so, a blue Toyota stopped for him. The woman behind the wheel shot curious glances toward the lonely agent, but she seemed to be discreet enough not to start asking questions.

"To Quantico?" She asked.

"To Quantico," Reid confirmed.

They traveled in silence for a couple of minutes, but the woman's curiosity finally overcame her.

"You don't have any bags," she noted.

"No," Reid nodded, trying to think of a proper answer. "I… I'm not on a trip, actually."

She smiled, a little too mischievously. "Hard night, I guess?"

"Kind of," Reid shrugged.

"College party?" She pushed.

"Uhuh," the young agent murmured, resisting the urge to explain her that he was pretty far from being an all-too-general party-face student.

"Let me guess… in the middle of the night, one of you had the brilliant idea of getting a car to go on a little ride in the countryside, right? Or to visit the weekend house of someone's parents?"

"Kind of," Reid murmured again and looked out of the window. Fortunately she got the unsaid message and didn't push further.

In a couple of minutes they were back in the familiar streets. Reid had asked the woman to put him out about two corners from the BAU building; he remembered that there was a phone box somewhere around there, and he needed to make a call first.

He was already standing in the box when he realized he had forgotten about the lack of money. Desperately he started pawing himself in search of some; he breathed a sigh of relief when he miraculously found a couple of coins in one of his pants pockets. It was probably the long-forgotten change from a coffee-machine. Reid now couldn't help but be grateful to himself for being too lazy to put the change back in his wallet.

"_Garcia." _The familiar and always playful voice now sounded low and suspicious. Reid couldn't blame her; he had called her from a street phone so she didn't know yet who she was speaking to.

"Hey Garcia," he smiled into the receiver, knowing that you could hear in someone's voice if they were smiling, even if you couldn't see their face.

"_Reid? Is that you?"_

"Yeah."

"_Where were you? You scared the hell out of me! Of all of us! We haven't heard from you for two days! Are you all right? I know you've been hurt…"_

"Garcia," Reid cut her off humbly. "Please, listen to me. I'm fine, but I need to tell you something."

"_Honey, you need to come back here, now. You can tell me anything as soon as you're safe with us, you understand? Just come here, please."_

"Don't worry, that's exactly what I'm going to do," Reid assured her. "But before that… look, I don't know if I'll have the opportunity to tell it. I mean… I surely will but I don't know when. I still don't know if I'll be handled as a suspect when I turn up."

"_I'm sorry but I don't know either," _Garcia answered. _"Tell me then."_

Reid took a deep breath. "I know who's after me. Her name is Phoebe Dowd."

"_Dowd?"_

"Yes. She's Phillip Dowd's sister. And she wants to take revenge on me for her brother's death."

"_Oh my God."_

"Gather everything about her then fill the team in. I'm sure she won't leave town until she gets what she wants – but she's probably in hiding."

"_No one can hide from my eyes if I want to find them," _Garcia smiled. _"I'll do my best, sweetcheeks. Now drag your ass back here."_

"I'm coming." Reid assured her. "See you in a couple of minutes."

He put the receiver back in its place and breathed deeply. He was nervous. Three days ago he thought he could handle this criminal alone. That he could catch her without having to give himself up to Strauss. But now… without money, a car and home, injured and grateful that it was at least not lethal, he had simply run out of options. He had no choice but to run back to the team like the prodigal son, to answer for his sins and hope for help at the same time.

Sighing and wiping his sweaty palms in his pants, he slowly set off walking towards the BAU building. Would he really be arrested when he walked in? The thought wouldn't leave him alone. Of course, he would have to be kept somewhere until they found proof of his innocence in Jacobson's murder… and if someone took responsibility for him, he could even avoid being locked up. Someone from the team would probably do that, or not? Until two days ago, Reid thought the team was fully on his side. They just couldn't help him, because their hands were tied. But after what happened in the forest… He wasn't so sure about it now. Then and there it seemed to him that everyone was after him; that Hotch and the others didn't care about Phoebe's goons; they only wanted to catch him. And then Morgan's shot… It could have been an accident or it could have even been someone else, but deep down Reid knew that these were the only explanations he could find for his friend's deed. He clearly remembered Morgan's face as he lifted his gun, even if he was far and Reid turned his head back just for a moment. He was aiming at him and the look on his face said 'I've got you now'. Reid knew this look. Only he would never have thought it would be for him.

He turned around the corner and approached the building. Strangely, no one was lurking around waiting for him; for some reason he thought that Garcia would have immediately called the others and they would hurry down to him.

As he got closer, a security guard-looking, black-suited man at the doors lifted his hand and muttered something into his watch. Reid slowed down and looked at the guy suspiciously.

He then realized that something was wrong when two other black-suited men appeared, one getting out of a nearby car, the other sneaking out from behind the corner.

The young agent stopped short, his breath caught in his lungs. _Oh no, not again…_ It was all he could think of. His instincts screamed to run, but his body simply didn't want to obey.

The three men were heading towards him, not hurrying but not moving too slowly either, as if they weren't sure yet if their quarry would try to escape or not.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," Reid muttered to himself in panic, barely noticing that his legs came to life again and started moving him backwards step by step.

The guys came closer. Reid was backing away and at one point he turned and broke into a run; or rather, he tried; the quick, agitated breathing re-awakened the pain in his side so his pace was rather pitiful. He was surrounded in no time.

They caught his arms from both sides. Panting, barely able to catch his breath, Reid had no choice but to stop obediently and give up the fight.

"What… what do you… want?" He gasped, but the third man grabbed the back of his neck and pushed his head down so that the young agent was forced to bend down to almost waist height. He decided not to repeat the question.

"You're coming with us now. No fight. No running." One of the black-suited men spat into his ear. It didn't sound like a request.

"Understand?"

Reid nodded. The three men then started dragging him through the street, probably towards a car. Reid wondered for a moment how anyone could watch this scene on the street without calling for help, and then he realized that these guys were dressed like FBI agents. Or at least how people thought FBI agents would look. They likely believed that they were witnessing the arrest of a criminal or something like that. Reid closed his eyes in defeat.

He was shoved rudely into the backseat of a car, hissing as pain flashed up in his side again. He was accompanied by two of the fake agents on both sides; the third one occupied the driver's seat. Reid barely had the time to look around in the car before one of his neighbors moved and a thick black piece of cloth was tied over his eyes.

He had no choice but to sit there blindfolded, patiently waiting to find out where he was being taken to.

* * *

The team was once again gathered around Garcia, watching as her fingers danced rapidly on the keyboard.

"So Phillip Dowd had a sister," Morgan murmured, shaking his head as if he could barely believe it. "No wonder she wants revenge on the kid."

"It wasn't Reid's fault," JJ said. "He was just trying to protect the hostages, and Hotch…"

"Damn I know it's not his fault," Morgan was angry again, but obviously not at JJ.

"I don't understand," Garcia sighed, sounding frustrated. "I can't find anybody named Phoebe Dowd in Quantico. As if she didn't even exist."

"She has to," Prentiss remarked. "And we can be pretty sure it's her real name."

"Check the hotels too," Rossi said. "She might be staying here temporarily."

"No matches," Garcia shook her head. "I'm sorry."

The ringing of Hotch's cell phone disturbed the dumbfounded silence.

"Hotchner… not yet… what? What happened? Yes, right away."

"What happened?" Morgan echoed the question.

The team leader ignored him and turned to Garcia. "Can we see the records of the security cameras from here?"

"Of course, why? Which one do we need?"

"The one that watches the entrance. From five or ten minutes ago."

"What the hell is it about, Hotch?" Morgan's impatience was evident. Garcia had already started typing letters and numbers to find the record.

"They said one of the cameras has just recorded an attack or something against Reid."

"_What?_" Morgan's horrified question was accompanied with Prentiss' and JJ's in unison.

"Just watch," the team leader pointed at the screen where a security video had just started playing. The BAU team watched in terror as the three men dressed in black suits had closed in on their youngest, grabbed him and taken him to a car.

"Who are these guys?" Rossi shook his head in disbelief.

"Can you see the license plate?" Prentiss asked as they saw the car take away.

Garcia rewound the record, stopped the video and enlarged the picture. "There isn't any license plate at all," she announced in a sad voice.

A heavy, shocked silence descended on the team. Their youngest was in trouble again, kidnapped right in front of their noses. And the fact that they couldn't do anything to help him at the moment was overwhelming.

"We have to find Spencer," JJ spoke at last, her voice sounding desperate.

"We have to find Phoebe Dowd," Hotch corrected. "If we have her, we'll have Reid too."

* * *

**Reid's in trouble... Again... Is anyone surprised?:D**


	13. Chapter 13

**A.N. Hi everyone! I know I was absent for an awfully long time... again... but finally I've managed to come up with a new chapter:) I don't promise anything, see for yourself!:D Thank you guys for the fantastic reviews you gave, they really made me happy! Sorry for not answering to everyone but I was quite busy with preparing to a dozens of test... Credits for beta-reading go out to REIDFANATIC.**

Chapter Thirteen

Reid sat there between the two men patiently and, for the most part, silently. After one of the guys moved again and tied the young agent's wrists with some kind of string, he risked questioning where they were going, but he didn't get any answers so he decided not to push it. From the moment they had blindfolded him and the car had started, he tried to keep track of the directions and curves in his mind, but soon he had to realize that he didn't have any idea where they were. His heart was still beating twice as fast as normally and the car must have reached a part of the town he wasn't familiar with; probably these were the reasons why his otherwise unbeatable memory had let him down now when he would have needed it the most.

However, it registered to him that the driver was very likely trying to distract him on purpose as well; the car was taking seemingly unnecessary by-passes from time to time, turning into streets only to swerve back to the original road at the next corner; Reid could notice these little tricks even without his vision.

After half an hour or so, the car suddenly stopped. The doors opened and Reid was forcefully pulled out of the car. He moaned involuntarily as pain flamed up in his side from the rough movement. The men grabbed his arms from each side and guided him into some kind of building. It was cold inside, almost the same temperature as out in the street, and Reid could smell dust and rotting wood. It didn't appear promising.

Finally his captors stopped and let go of his arms. The young agent heard their steps going away from him, then a door closed somewhere behind his back. But his hammering heartbeat still didn't calm down, and a couple of seconds later he also knew why; he _wasn't alone in the room. _There was another person with him, and Reid suddenly remembered Phoebe's face as she pointed the gun at his heart, ready to kill him on the spot. What if she was standing here the same way, aiming at him silently, while the young agent didn't even know where the bullet would come from?

Panicking, Reid reached to tear off the blindfold, but it was too tight and he couldn't manage with the knot. As he was fighting to get his vision back, he suddenly felt a light touch on his shoulder and he almost jumped out of his skin since he hadn't heard that someone was approaching him. The hand brushed along his arm all the way to his fingers until it found the knot he wasn't able to untie. Reid froze, heart beating ridiculously loudly in his chest. The hand was accompanied by another, and they smoothly unbound first the string on his wrists, then the knot of the blindfold. One moment later the young agent could suddenly see again as the cloth covering his eyes fell to the floor.

He spun around in his heels, only to face Phoebe Dowd's wide, mischievous smile.

* * *

Garcia's fingers were dancing on the keyboard about twice as fast as usual.

"Come on, come on!" The technical analyst kept muttering to herself nervously. "You can't hide from me, you know that eventually I'll find you… and then I'll be pissed!"

She felt frustration increase in her as she tried and tried again. She couldn't stand the fact that she had failed to find someone in her almighty computer, especially when it was more necessary than usual. With every passing moment she couldn't help but think about Reid, and that what horrible things he was probably suffering at that moment.

But finding somebody when only have a name was not as simple as it seemed. Garcia couldn't find any Phoebe Dowds in Quantico; when she extended the search region to Virginia, she had found four women with this name, but as she checked them it turned out that none of them would match Reid's kidnapper.

Then she tried from the other end. Tracking back from Phillip Dowd, she looked up his parents, and there she found their other child, Phoebe Dowd. According to the data, Phoebe was still living with her parents in Cleveland. A quick phone call to them, and the team learned that Phoebe had moved from there about a year ago, to some friend's house in New York. The parents also had her address, but another phone call made it clear that it was fake. Another dead end.

"Come on, I know you're around somewhere…"

Garcia returned to searching in Quantico. Hotch and the team in the other room had already started trying to create a profile about Phoebe; they hadn't found much though. Garcia heard their words through the open door.

"She's not a serial killer, she only wants to take revenge; she thinks she has the right to do…"

"She focuses only on her target, won't kill anybody else unless she has some purpose with that; but now that she has Reid she probably won't hurt other innocent people…"

"She's smart and she calculates everything in advance. She must have been working on a plan to separate Reid from us for a long time. Weeks, months, maybe even years…"

"Since she's been waiting for so long to get him, she'll probably want to spend a little more time with him before she carries out her goal, make him face what he did, try to make him feel guilty. It will give her satisfaction…"

_Like a cat toying with a mouse,_ Garcia thought. If Phoebe really had been planning her move for years, she must have been spending a lot of time in the town. That means she must have some place around here to stay at… And since she couldn't be found in any of the hotels, she must own a property or…

Garcia's brain worked with double speed. If no properties are in her name, then she must be living with a friend. There would be no way to find her like that, but there was a slight chance of… She typed some things in and a list of properties in Quantico having been sold in the past three years appeared.

There it was!

A house owned by Anne P. Dowd about two and a half years ago was written to the name of Gina Wentworth. Garcia realized two things at the same time. Firstly that Anne P. Dowd was definitely the person they were looking for. The P. in the middle name had to be short for Phoebe, which she appeared to be trying to hide. Secondly, it occurred to her that she had already heard the name Wentworth somewhere; and another search in the database proved her right. The maiden name of Phillip Dowd's mother was also Wentworth, which meant that this Gina Wentworth was probably Phoebe's relative, a cousin or an aunt.

"Now that must have made a lot of things easier for you, my dear," Garcia muttered satisfied, even smiling at the monitor. "I told you I'd find you eventually…"

With a hopeful smile she jumped from her chair and hurried to inform the team about the news.

* * *

Reid backed two steps instinctively from the smiling girl. Phoebe giggled and moved after him, clearly enjoying herself.

The room they were in was rather empty. In fact, it looked like a kitchen or a bathroom, only without any furniture, not even a sink. Tiles were covering the floor but the walls were also empty; the plaster had even come down at some places. It was clear to Reid that nobody had lived here for a long time now. Phoebe had her reasons for bringing him here instead of putting a bullet into his head in some forest God knows where.

"Hi again," the girl greeted him in a tone that made the hair on the back of Reid's neck stand up. "You tried to run away from me. A pretty good try. But I was better."

The young agent glanced around nervously, subconsciously looking for an escape route. There weren't too many possibilities; a window at the far end of the room, and a closed, probably locked door that was currently blocked by Phoebe.

"Never mind, it's not your fault," the girl went on. "I'm sure you'd do anything to beat the one that had killed one of your loved ones."

"Look, Phoebe," the young agent lifted his hands, realizing he had no other choice but to try to talk himself out of the situation. "You don't have to do this. If you kill me, it won't make anything better. It won't bring Phillip back. It will only put a burden on your soul. You don't know what it feels like."

The girl just laughed at him in a soft, almost happy voice. She even made a small movement with her hand which scared Reid half to death as he thought for a moment that she'd pull out a gun again, but nothing happened. Phoebe just stepped closer to him and he couldn't step away anymore; his back had bumped into the wall.

"You're a little late with this, Agent Reid," she told him. "I've been planning my revenge for too long now. Ever since you killed my brother. You don't think you can just convince me to leave it?"

Approaching him even closer, she reached up to his shoulder, then moved her hand downwards on his shirt, reaching the spot where the bullet wound was. Reid hissed involuntarily, regretting it right away as Phoebe's expression changed from mischievous to surprised, and then, satisfied. Like a child that greedily unwraps a present, only to find out that it is exactly the toy he had expected.

"What happened to you?" She asked in a caring tone, then pressed hard into Reid's side. The young agent gasped in pain, unable to hold it back, and in response to that, a wide grin appeared on Phoebe's face. "You're injured…"

With a new weapon in her hand, Reid could clearly see the recognition in her eyes. He tried again to move sideways and get away from her but she was faster; she caught both of his arms and before he had time to react, pushed them into his own side. Reid groaned in pain and pushed her back with all his strength.

"Stop it," he said firmly. "Phillip didn't suffer, he died right away!" It was _so _hard to talk about it, but he wanted to use Phoebe's sense of justice to defend himself. "There's no point in torturing me!"

The smile suddenly disappeared from Phoebe's face. "I'm sorry," she spat, "I forgot what a beautiful headshot it was that you delivered to Phil! I think I should be grateful then that you didn't shoot him in the stomach? Or in the leg, so that he could have been saved?"

She lunged forward and managed to hit Reid's side again. The young agent doubled over, gasping for air, but breathing didn't help much to ease the pain.

"He was about to kill my colleague!" He shouted back as he finally caught his breath. "And who knows how many other innocent people! You don't get the chance to take your time to aim when you fear for your very life!"

"You know what, Agent Reid?" Phoebe asked, suddenly looking very calm. "You actually made me change my mind about something."

"What?" He asked, not daring to hope for anything good.

"I won't kill you. Not with my own hands."

The young agent looked at her with tired, desperate eyes. "I get it. Your men…"

"No, not them either. It's gonna be an accident. An accident that I have nothing to do with. The police, the FBI will never be able to prove it was me.

"Well, you're wrong about that," Reid informed her. "My team knows about you. They know all about your intentions."

For a brief moment it looked like Phoebe was confused upon hearing this news, but then Reid could hear too what made the girl freeze. Sounds of wailing sirens were heard faintly, obviously from a great distance but it was loud enough to make Phoebe nervous.

Reid chose this moment to try to convince her. "Look, I can help you. We can both help each other. If you let me go, I won't testify against you. Not even in Jacobson's case."

"Shut up," the girl simply barked at him, then turned around and headed for the door. Reid started after her with a bad feeling.

On the other side of the door, a black-suited man was waiting. Phoebe stopped on the threshold and turned to face Reid, with an evil grin on her face.

"You're not going to die from my hands, Agent Reid. You're going to die in a tragic explosion." She said, then turned to her man. "Activate the counter."

Reid's eyes grew wide in horror. He made one desperate attempt to get past Phoebe, but he only managed to catch a glimpse of that menacing grin again before the door was shut right in front of his face and the lock jumped into place with a merciless pop.

* * *

**Okay, I really tried to avoid another cruel cliffhanger, but it seems I have failed. Please don't hate me... wait, you can hate me but please review!:)  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**A.N.: Hi again, since I promised you I will hurry with this chapter, I really did so here it is... Hope you'll like it:) Btw thanks for the feedback on the previous chapters, there was a lot and I was really happy... keep on reviewing guys:) Oh and I almost forgot... thanks to REIDFANATIC for beta-reading!**

Chapter Fourteen

Reid watched in horror as Phoebe's grin disappeared behind the closing door. So this was the girl's plan, to blow him up with some empty house? The young agent wondered for a moment if Phoebe really wanted shoot him three days ago in the forest. She probably did; the bomb appeared to be her plan B after he got away.

Reid paced the room like a caged animal. He tried to knock the door open with his shoulder several times, even tried to kick it out like Morgan would probably have done, but he didn't succeed. It was made of a strong material and the lock was holding up pretty well too. Phoebe must have taken care of this as well.

Another round in the room, and Reid found himself staring at the window. Since he couldn't manage with the door, it was the only chance left for him to escape.

There was only one problem. The window was relative small, and though Reid estimated that he could climb out through it, it was built to be an aerator window and it only opened from the top and about two inches.

_Think, think, _the young agent urged himself. He looked around desperately in the empty room, trying to find something he could use, and his gaze suddenly fell upon the blindfold Phoebe left on the floor after taking it off of him. He quickly grabbed it and wrapped it around his right hand, in order to protect himself from the consequences of what he was about to do. Taking a deep breath, he walked up to the window and punched the glass with all his strength. It broke only in a relatively small area but Reid didn't care about that; he quickly pushed out the rest of the glass and started climbing out, ignoring the little shards that were left in the window frame and now cut into his hands ruthlessly. The room he was kept in was fortunately on ground level so he didn't fall too much, but as he reached the ground he felt like dying right on the spot; pain flared up in his side from the rough movement and stars were dancing before his eyes, making him lose his balance. It took a couple of seconds for him to regain the ability to breathe.

Knowing he probably didn't have much time left; he winced and got to his feet with an effort, trying to ignore the pain. As he looked around, he noticed that he was in what appeared to be a backyard of a modest family house. It was surrounded by high fences and since climbing again wasn't an option for him right now, Reid decided to head towards the front entrance. He turned around one corner, then another, heart kept on beating impossibly fast in his chest as he waited for the house to explode any second, and then finally he reached the gate of the front yard.

Phoebe and her men were nowhere to be seen. They probably jumped in a car and got the hell out of here right after locking him up in the room. The fact that they had left in a hurry just confirmed Reid's fear that the bomb they had activated must have mere minutes, if not seconds, left to explode.

Just as he reached the gate, he suddenly saw the police cars at the end of the street. He realized he hadn't even noticed the sounds of sirens getting louder while he was busy getting out of his prison. Beside the police cars there were two black SUVs as well; they were blocking the street in front of another car, and people were getting out of every vehicle.

Could it really be that the team had found out this fast where he was taken? Even Reid himself didn't know what exact part of town he was in. But after all, he must have underestimated his team's abilities, he thought with a slight embarrassment.

Hesitating only one second by the gate at the sight of the police cars, he quickly set off towards them, clutching his throbbing side with one arm. He was tired and afraid but the thought that soon he would reunite with the team kept him going.

He had advanced about five or six steps down the street when a deafening thunder erupted behind his back, stifling every other sound including the sirens of the police cars. The force of the explosion lifted him off the ground and threw him forward into the air, only to bring him down again to an unceremonious collision with the asphalt.

* * *

Prentiss glanced nervously at Hotch as the SUV was speeding down the streets of Quantico. She had never actually seen the team leader driving so fast before; they were way beyond the speed limit and looking in the rearview window, she saw that the other car containing Rossi and Morgan was keeping up with them. Ever since Garcia had given them the address where Phoebe Dowd could possibly be staying, a silent tension had lingered between them and Hotch and the other driver, Rossi, were driving like devils; as if they were suspecting that Reid would need their help as soon as possible.

"Turn left here," she guided Hotch softly. Behind them, the other SUV also turned in.

The police cars arrived about the same time as the agents; three or four cars were crowding in the rather narrow, peaceful looking suburban street. They were surrounding another car, a dark green Opel; some of the officers had already gotten out and approached it.

"What's going on here?" Prentiss asked confusedly. "Who called the police?"

"Strauss has informed them about Reid, as far as I know," Hotch answered as he stopped the SUV behind the police cars. "It seems the information of his whereabouts must have somehow seeped out."

"Great," Prentiss murmured.

Morgan had got out of the other car behind them and was already hurrying towards the policemen.

"FBI, what's going on here?" He asked the nearest officer, but before the man could have answered, Morgan glanced at the passengers of the Opel and frowned immediately. Behind the wheel there was the same woman they had seen three days ago in the forest with Reid. It was Phoebe!

Three of the officers were already holding her at gunpoint as Morgan approached her.

"FBI! Anne Phoebe Dowd, you're under arrest! Get out of the car, hands where I can see them!" He shouted victoriously.

But the smile on the girl's face just didn't feel right. She got out of the car, slowly, with her hands up and stood silently while Morgan handcuffed her. Then she glanced backwards towards a house at the far end of the street and spoke softly, in a humming tone. "You're too late, agents, I'm sorry…"

Morgan followed his gaze; for a brief moment he didn't see anything, but then a figure appeared in the distance, a slim figure, far too familiar to his eyes…

"Reid?" The dark-skinned agent asked himself in disbelief.

Before he had time to do anything, a huge explosion shook the ground beneath their feet; almost throwing them to the ground. After Morgan regained his balance, he saw that one of the distant houses had burst out in orange flames and a cloud of black smoke was ascending rapidly towards the sky. He was searching the street with his eyes for the slim figure, but it was nowhere to be seen; he spotted it only a few seconds later, lying on the ground motionless.

"Reid!" He shouted in terror, but he didn't leave his spot. He was still holding Phoebe's hands and he didn't want to let her go; besides, Hotch and Prentiss were already running towards their young teammate.

* * *

When Reid opened his eyes again, it seemed to him as if he had only been unconscious for a second. He was lying on the rough asphalt, alone, and though his hearing was dulled by the explosion, he could distantly hear the sirens in the background. He tried to gather himself up but his head felt heavy, so heavy that he just wanted to stay there lying and sleep.

Suddenly sounds of running footsteps were heard, and someone shouted at him.

"Don't move! You're under arrest!"

Were they addressing him? His mind worked all too sluggishly as he tried to size up the situation, trying to roll over to see what's going on.

"I said don't move!" The shout came from closer this time, and a moment later a knee was pressed heavily into his back. Someone grabbed his left arm and pulled it backwards, obviously with the intention of handcuffing him. But when his other arm was pulled back too, a sudden, sharp pain exploded in his shoulder, and he couldn't help but cry out.

"Shut up! You're under arrest!"

The handcuffs closed around his wrists, but the pain didn't go away, it remained there as his arm was constantly being pulled by the man kneeling on his back, and it was so bad he felt like he was dying.

"No, please, let go of me! It hurts!"

He tried to writhe away from the hands holding him but he could barely move. It felt like his arm was about to break. The pain was blinding. "Please! My shoulder… is hurt!"

Suddenly another voice had joined in.

"Let him go!"

Reid could barely believe it. It was Hotch.

"Sorry Agent, but I can't do that," came the answer. "I have orders from Chief Erin Strauss to arrest Dr. Spencer Reid and not to let him out of my sight."

Hotch swallowed the indignation the oblivious tone had awakened in him; simply knelt down beside the young agent and looked in the wet eyes that were looking back at him full of suffering and pleading for help.

"Please, officer, at least get the handcuffs off. Can't you see he's hurt?"

"He may only be pretending," the policeman answered, but his voice wasn't so self-confident this time. "I've seen a lot of cases like this…"

Reid cried out again and closed his eyes in agony. He was starting to lose the feeling in his fingers and hand.

"But if not, you'll have to face the consequences of doing additional damage to an injured federal agent," Hotch said in a very serious tone that seemed to make its effect finally. The handcuffs opened and Reid's right arm fell back to the ground next to him. The pain was reduced by a significant amount; it was almost nothing to the one he'd felt before, although his shoulder still hurt like hell, and he could feel a heavy knot somewhere in the joint. The young agent drew in ragged breaths and looked at Hotch thankfully as the team leader leaned closer to him and put a hand on his good arm.

"Reid, you okay?"

It was just an automatic question; he didn't expect an answer to that. "It'll be okay, Reid," he told his young subordinate instead.

* * *

**Poor Reid... I know. Share with me what you think!:)**


	15. Chapter 15

**A.N.: Hi everyone, I'm terribly sorry that I made you wait this long for the final chapter. I don't know why but it was quite hard to write, maybe because finishing a story is never easy if you want to do a good job. Or maybe it was because of my tons of end-of-the-year exams. Thank you all for reading it this far and thanks for the wonderful feedback you gave. It was a great pleasure to write to such a nice audience. Ah, and of course a very big thanks to REIDFANATIC who beta-read Fugitive and helped a lot.**

Chapter Fifteen

"It'll be okay, Reid," said Hotch.

The young agent looked back at him with a mixture of gratefulness and apology, but his vision was already blurry and he had trouble focusing. The sudden decrease of the pain when the policeman let go of his arm made him light-headed. He heard Hotch say something about a dislocated shoulder to the paramedics who had finally arrived, but he didn't feel anything when he was loaded onto a stretcher and carried into the ambulance.

Finally, just as he thought that he was about to submerge into unconsciousness, he became aware of the inside of the ambulance. An oxygen mask was put over his nose and mouth, and it felt so good to breathe in the pure gas. Opening his eyes, he found one of the paramedics examining his arm and Morgan sitting beside him.

"Hey kid, you're back?" The dark-skinned agent half asked, half stated.

"Uh huh," Reid agreed through the oxygen mask, then added simply, "my shoulder hurts."

Morgan laughed. "Wow, you're one tough guy. Haven't you heard that men don't complain about pain?"

"Sure," Reid mumbled, his speech still sluggish. "But I'm in an ambulance, aren't I? I thought I'm supposed to tell them where it hurts…"

"That's right, young man," the nearer paramedic joined in. "Don't hesitate to tell us anything that feels wrong." He waited for a couple of seconds, but Reid didn't add anything. "So far it seems you were extremely lucky. You only have a dislocated shoulder which we'll fix in no time, and a bruise on your forehead, probably a mild concussion but nothing serious. You'll be fine."

"Yeah that's what you received in the explosion," the other paramedic interjected, "but I see an older wound here apparently made by a gun."

Reid gasped as the bandage Jessica had made for the gunshot wound was pulled off, and he looked at Morgan. The older agent's eyes were full of guilt and he looked as if he simply didn't know what to say; Reid realized right away that it was very stupid of him to think that Morgan shot him on purpose. So he coughed nervously and stuttered, "yeah, that was… an accident, earlier…"

To his relief, the paramedics didn't ask more questions. However, they turned their attention to the young agent's shoulder.

"On three," one of them said. Morgan put a reassuring hand on his young colleague's good shoulder, and Reid closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself. But he still underestimated the pain that exploded in his whole torso as the joint popped back into place; he wanted to scream but found that the sound was caught in his throat and the only thing he had managed to do was to gasp and pant. The inside of the vehicle blurred for a moment and the feeling of Morgan's grip on his other shoulder felt extremely distant, like it was someone else's body. He could hear people talking around him but their voices were muffled and he was able to comprehend their words only long seconds later.

"Kid, you with me?" He finally heard Morgan's question and wondered how many times he'd asked it before. He nodded tiredly.

"That was all," the paramedic said. "Your shoulder's in the right place now. Does it feel better?"

"It still hurts," Reid muttered, ignoring Morgan's former teasing. To be honest, it felt almost the same. The pain was still there, throbbing and pulsing, and it seemed to him that if he tried to move his arm, it would rip off.

"It'll get better, then," the paramedic smiled. "I'll give you something for the pain until then."

"Just something mild," Reid mumbled, "non-narcotic…"

The paramedic glanced up at Morgan with a question in his eyes, but the dark-skinned agent just nodded, his gaze saying 'do as he said'.

"Hey kid, how're you holdin' up?" He asked after a couple of minutes. Reid's eyes were closed and he had seemingly fallen asleep, but he moved his head at Morgan's question.

"Still living..."

"That's good. I have good news; I almost forgot to mention it. We caught Phoebe."

The young agent opened his eyes and looked at his older colleague with a relieved gaze. "Really?"

"Yeah, she thought she'd taken care of you by blowing up that house. She didn't even protest; she was so content with herself. But you got away," Morgan grinned and shook his head with a proud expression, "you should have seen her face when she saw you coming, man!"

Reid smiled with him. If the team had Phoebe, they had the proof of his innocence. And if Strauss wasn't so pig-headed, then everything would be just fine.

* * *

"I hate hospitals," Reid declared a couple of hours later as he was sitting in his half reclined bed, looking at JJ, Prentiss and Garcia who weren't even trying to hide their serenity over his annoyance.

"Come on, Spencer, you've been in hospitals more times than any of us," JJ giggled, "you should have adjusted to it by now."

"Very funny," Reid rolled his eyes. "But I'm totally fine this time. Nothing hurts anymore, I can breathe and even walk on my own. I don't understand why I have to be here at all…"

"Honey, show some patience," Garcia caressed his hand calmingly. "It's only for a day and you can go home. The doctors said it's necessary for you to stay for the night."

Reid almost said something nasty about the stubborn doctors but he swallowed it at the last moment. "I hate this smell," he said instead. "It all reminds me of bad times, bad memories. Some of my nightmares have actually taken place in a hospital."

"Spence, you sound like a whining child," JJ smiled, but the young agent gave her a killer look.

"Hey, certain smells can actually have a great influence on the working of your brain, didn't you know? There were experiments carried out by scientists who examined the effect of smelling different scents while sleeping. If you smell something bad, something you don't like while you're in the REM phase, your chances of having a bad dream are significantly increased."

"Rest your brain, Reid," Prentiss laughed. "Otherwise it will get overheated."

The young agent shifted a little, trying to find a more comfortable position because, to be honest, his shoulder had started feeling sore as the painkillers were wearing off. He would never have admitted it to his colleagues though.

"Tell me about Phoebe," he asked instead. "Morgan told me he caught her. Has she confessed anything?"

Prentiss sighed. "Well, she appears to be a tough nut. She denies blowing up the house, keeps telling it was an accident and that we don't have proof that you were in the house. She also denies murdering Jacobson."

"Yeah but don't worry," JJ added, "they'll find out that she used explosives, and there'll be your deposition too… As far as I know Phoebe doesn't know how well you are. Her last information about you is that you were taken to hospital in a critical condition."

"Let me see her, just once," Garcia growled, "I'll scratch her eyes out for doing this to my junior G-man."

Reid smiled amusedly, but it faded away quickly and a shadow of concern appeared on his face. "What about Strauss?" He asked.

"Oh, don't worry about her," JJ calmed him. "Hotch has taken care of a lot of things. She only wants to give you a warning for not showing up when you were called in, but if the court finds Phoebe guilty, and they most certainly will, you can explain that you were attacked and they will believe every word you say."

"That's good;" Reid sighed and leaned back against the pillows. That was when the door suddenly opened and the three other male members of the team appeared with what looked like four liters of coffee.

"Hi there ladies," Morgan greeted them, "uh, kid, you here too?" He joked as he walked around the bed and put down two steaming cups on the bedside table.

"Wow, that's mine?" Reid pointed excitedly at the coffee with his good arm, so happy to see his favorite drink that he even let Morgan's tease slip past his ear. "Great, I haven't had one in, I don't know how long now!"

"That's exactly why we like you, Reid," Rossi grinned, "you're so easy to gratify."

"So, how are you?" Hotch asked as all of them settled down in chairs around the bed.

"I'm good," Reid answered, burning his tongue with the hot coffee as he hurried to swallow it. "Um… the pain is less than minimal and I'm actually bored to death. The nurses want me to rest all the time; they even refused to let me play chess."

"Hey kid, can you do anything else besides complain?" Morgan grinned at his own joke.

Reid looked offended. "If I remember correctly, I just said that I'm not in pain, so what do you want from me?"

"Hey, just kidding," his older colleague smiled.

"Phoebe Dowd's been taken care of," Hotch stated in the temporary silence. "You don't have to worry about her anymore."

"Thank you guys," Reid nodded, "for not giving up on me."

Prentiss shook her head. "Don't be stupid Reid, why would we ever turn our back on you?"

"I can't imagine any situation dire enough for that to happen either," JJ added.

The young agent looked down into his lap in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. There was a… couple of days when I was thinking that you all wanted to just… catch me. That you didn't believe I was attacked."

"I don't blame you, sweetie," Garcia hurried to comfort him, "awful things happened to you and we weren't able to help. You thought you were alone."

"Yeah, and I was confused…" Reid went on. "In the forest I thought it would be okay and you'd get her, but then I saw Morgan aim at me and I panicked," he admitted.

"Oh my God," Morgan whispered. "I thought it was one of Phoebe's men. The shots were coming from that direction. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Reid was still looking at his hands, regretting bringing up the incident. He really didn't blame Morgan and didn't want him to feel bad about it. "Hey, um, does anyone by any chance know where I can get some more sugar? My coffee is a bit bitter," he added, hoping to destroy the tense silence. But Morgan was still looking so guilty it almost broke Reid's heart.

Fortunately Rossi came to his aid. "More sugar? I can't believe it; we shoved about three kilos into your cup!"

The girls giggled too. Much to Reid's surprise, Hotch dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out half a dozen packets of sugar. "I had a feeling that these would come in handy," he said with a subtle smile.

"Wow, thanks," the young agent took one and started to open it slowly, cautiously moving the fingers on his right hand. Risking a glance around his teammates, he saw contentedly that even Morgan was smiling weakly now. The others started joking again about something; Reid didn't really listen to them as he worked on the wrapping, relieved.

To tell the truth, of course, he didn't need that extra sugar at all; Rossi had really packed his coffee full of it. He just wanted to lighten up their faces again. He didn't want to see any more worried faces.

At least not for a while.

* * *

**WARNING! DO NOT read further if you don't like open endings! I can't help it but I'm a huge fan of leaving things a bit open... probably because when I like a story I want it to continue forever and never end:) So I apologize to those of you who don't like it... to them, this story ends here, because I don't plan to write a sequel... at least not in the near future.  
**

**You have been warned.  
**

Nine days later, as Reid walked into the bullpen to his first workday after the trial, he was met with a neat, white envelope on the top of the huge pile of paper on his desk. There was nothing on it except for his name, written with longish-shaped letters in a style that was quite elegant but modest at the same.

The trial had gone well. Although there was no proof against Phoebe in the murder of Douglas Jacobson, they had the tape on which three of her men caught Reid and dragged him away; and two of the men were later found sitting in the car with her while escaping from the exploding house. Since Hotch had somehow managed to talk Strauss into leaving even that warning she wanted to give Reid, the young agent was heard and with his statement and the obvious motivation Phoebe had, the woman was sentenced to years in prison.

Walking towards his desk, Reid thought about how many criminals he and his team had vanquished. Most of them were arrested and taken to court, but there were some who resisted and ended up being shot. Phillip Dowd was unfortunately one of them. The young agent thought worriedly about how many relatives of the dead criminals could be living out there, wanting to get revenge for their child, parent, sibling or friend. What if they found them again? Hotch, Morgan… almost everyone had blood on their hands. Who could tell which one of them would be the next victim of a desperate man or woman like Phoebe?

But then he thought about what Garcia had said about the threatening messages his teammates got. There are always angry, vengeful and disappointed people who think the arrested criminal is innocent. They often wrote letters to try to scare the BAU. But they never succeed. They just wanted to gain attention, to release some of their anger. They didn't even take it seriously in most of the cases.

This thought gave Reid some comfort. As he sat down at his desk, he curiously took the white envelope in his hand. It didn't look like some formal letter, more like a party invitation or something like that. Or maybe someone just wanted to send him a get-well card but didn't know the address.

Opening the envelope, a small white sheet fell out of it. There was a message on it, written with the same elegant letters, and for a moment, Reid thought that it really was a party invitation.

But it wasn't.

_Agent Reid,_

_I'm sorry we didn't have more time to talk. I regret that I wanted to kill you without hearing what you had to say. I think you and I could have learned a lot of interesting things about each other. I'd be glad if you could come over and see me sometimes, if it's not a problem. I've got a lot of things to tell you._

_P.D._

_

* * *

_**Oh yeah. What does she want this time? Finishing Reid off? Talking about how she regretted her sins? Or telling him she has fallen in love with him? I don't know either. For some reason I prefer the last one, but I don't want to decide it:) It's probably not even that important.**

**Thanks again for reading and reviewing!**

**p.s. My next fanfiction (if I'll have the time to write) will be about Supernatural with my favorite character of it in the main role. Anyone interested?:)**

**FFV  
**


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